


Alive but Not Entirely

by Kishock



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Discussion of Past Suicidal Behavior, Discussion of mental illness, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, M/M, brief discussion of sex, past Spock/Uhura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6044695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kishock/pseuds/Kishock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally discharged from the hospital after the Harrison event, Jim goes to live with Spock in San Francisco for the remainder of his recovery. While there, Jim struggles with his mental health and feeling guilty for coming back to life. Meanwhile, Spock realizes that he must be honest with his feelings for Jim if he hopes to find any inner peace. Until then, he’s glad to have Jim alive.</p><p>Written for <a href="http://thylabigbang.tumblr.com/">Thyla Big Bang 2016</a> on Tumblr</p><p>  <a href="http://synnesai.livejournal.com/161355.html">Art by Synnesai</a><br/><a href="http://mieaouy.tumblr.com/post/139526523850/this-is-my-thyla-big-bang-art-for-tazeffects">Art by Mieaou</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fic.... that I've completed.

_Is Earth Spacedock to the Enterprise like the hospitals are to me?_ Jim ponders. Casting his gaze towards the sky through a window in Spock’s hover-car, Jim tries to picture the Enterprise up there in dry-dock with her hull torn open; little worker-bee shuttles repairing her nacelles while engineers piece her together properly from the inside.

 _Nah, I can’t be repaired that easily,_ he thinks with a sigh, watching as grey clouds consume the last bit of blue still visible. Even though the smell of sanitized medical equipment and white walls no longer surround him, Jim can’t shake his solemn mood.

“Are you hungry?” Spock asks, glancing over to the passenger side at Jim. He receives no response but he can tell Jim’s most likely drifting off in thought again. _Dr. McCoy mentioned that Jim does this more often than he used to. It is an expected symptom,_ Spock tells himself, although even as he focuses on the road ahead, he finds himself deeply concerned. It is the first day of Jim being out of the hospital and normally he would get quite animated when in the city. The mention of food, especially knowing it would be non-replicated, usually inspires enthusiasm.

When Jim does move to look away from the window, Spock sees that it is because they are passing by the section of the city that was reduced to rubble. It’s a distant view and soon hidden behind more buildings when they pull down another street.

“I get why you told me I could nap in the car for the ride,” Jim says with a weak smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes,” Spock says, looking blank as always. _What more can I say? I do not wish to irritate his current emotional state._

They fall into silence once more, only Jim’s yawn interrupts it momentarily but he doesn’t try to rest.

A few minutes later, Spock pulls up to entrance way of the underground parking lot beneath his building. “We are here, Jim,” he says as he slowly weaves through the lanes of vehicles.

“Gee Spock, you live in a garage?” Jim jokes, but there’s no real mirth to his tone.

 _At least he is trying to seem like himself._ Spock can certainly appreciate the little efforts. After what Jim’s been through, no one could expect him to return to normal right away. “I live on the 6 th floor in an apartment, however if you like it here, you’re welcome to sleep in the car.”

 _That_ earns Spock a small, genuine smile.

They park in a space with a little sign hovering at the end of it reading: APT 6-19. Fingers gliding over the mini-console, Spock dials down the engine and unlocks the doors before stepping out, Jim following after grabbing his backpack from the backseat.

Standing outside of Spock’s car, Jim really takes a good look at it. Sleek, black and rather sporty.

 _That doesn’t seem like a logical decision a vulcan would make,_ Jim observes before following Spock to the elevator doors. “Can I ask why you ended up with one of the _slightly_ less safe models?”

Spock approaches the panel between the two elevators and presses his hand to it. “That is my father’s car. He did not select it though,” Spock explains as the computer scans him before dinging. The doors on their left slide open.

“Oh,” Jim says, feeling his stomach drop. _Of course a human actually picked it. Of course I’d accidentally bring up his mom,_ Jim grumbles to himself inwardly. “Umm so the apartment is your dad’s too?” It’s a lame attempt at changing the subject but Spock doesn’t show any sign of caring either way. _He can hide shit really well though._

“It is a joint ownership,” Spock explains, gesturing for Jim to enter the elevator first before following. “I lived here during my time at the Academy. Father only stays here when he has business on Earth.”

“That must have made your Academy years fun. Better than mine, although I won’t deny there were good times,” Jim comments as the elevator makes its ascent to gentle piano music. He braces a hand on the shiny, silver rail as he takes in the fancy interior of the elevator. The floor is a red carpet and the walls are a golden and spotless. _Well at least this place looks more like a place a vulcan would choose. Everything seems almost too clean._

“I assure you that my years were not much different from your own. The apartment only benefitted by giving me a place to meditate in peace.” _He wishes he had a private place to invite female company to,_ Spock then tells himself. He turns his attention to the floor indicator above the doors to distract him from any illogical feeling of jealousy.

The corridors on Spock’s floor have the same carpet as the elevator; lush and red with silver trim along the golden walls. Of course Jim only spares a moment to look before following Spock down the hall.

“You know I had no idea what to expect since I hadn’t seen your apartment before but I’m not sure if this place fits you or not,” Jim admits.

Spock merely quirks his brow as he slides his key card over the panel by the door before it slides open. Again, he gestures for Jim to step inside first.

 _Even less reaction than usual. Good going, Jim!_ He thinks as he steps inside the apartment though he only manages to get a few steps inside before his jaw drops at the sight before him. “Wow,” Jim breathes as he steps towards the large floor-to-ceiling window that makes up an entire wall of the living room. There’s no tall buildings to block the view of the bay from up here.

The rest of the apartment isn’t as “fancy” as the rest of the complex but Jim can certainly appreciate the simple yet modern set up Spock has here. The walls are pastel blue which is much easier on Jim’s eyes than gold and red. There’s a long couch facing the window in the living room area and to the left of all that is the kitchen and dining room.

Spock goes to the fridge for juice while he gives Jim a little time to take in the view and explore as he likes. Watching from the corner of his eye, he can see that Jim’s taken an interest in the incense tray on the coffee table, curiously examining the carved sehlat on it that’s posed in a leap. It gives Spock an idea but he’ll have to save it for a later time.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Spock offers as he pours himself a glass of cranberry juice.

Jim looks up, his hand paused in the air on its way to poke at the tiny fangs of the sehlat. “Oh, sure! What do you got?” He asks, standing and walking over to the island counter, bracing himself on crossed arms.

“Cranberry juice, water and four types of tea.” Setting the juice on the counter, Spock then turns to open one of the cabinets to retrieve another cup. “Of course there is also the option of using the small synthesizer I have,” he says, gesturing to the rectangle unit above the counter by the sink.

Scrunching his nose at the thought of having to return to replicated foods so soon, Jim shakes his head. “Nah, juice is fine.” _Had enough bland meals at the hospital. Hopefully I won’t have to rely on that machine until I get back to the ship._ Jim’s eyes widen a moment while Spock is turned; worry fills him for a brief moment. **_If_** _I get back to the ship…_

Unintentionally, yet thankfully, Spock interrupts Jim’s thoughts as he sets the glass of juice down in front of Jim. “I will show you the apartment when you are ready. Later I will begin making dinner,” Spock explains then drinks the remainder of his juice. “I do not have any rules other than to clean up after yourself.” He turns to set his glass in the recycler to be cleaned.

Jim answers with a snort, almost smiling. “No problem there. Bones trained me well in the art of folding my clothes and putting them away rather than piling them onto the nearest surface I don’t immediately need.” As Jim downs half his drink, he recalls how Bones had had enough of living in a mess, assumed his lecture stance that consisted of crossing his arms and scowling, and threatened Jim with a room transfer. _Definitely don’t want to risk upsetting Spock like that._

“I am pleased to know that his parenting skills have been effective.” Jim can see a twinkle of humor in Spock’s eyes though he has no doubt that Spock would deny it. As long as Jim can see it, that’s what matters.

 _Maybe this won’t be so bad… for either of us but mostly for Spock,_ Jim thinks as he finishes his juice and goes to put the glass in the recycler, “demonstrating” his cleaning skills. “Shall I get that tour now then?”

Spock nods and leads Jim to the hallway between the living room and kitchen. “Since you have already familiarized yourself with the front area I shall show you the rest,” he explains and walks to the first door on the left of the hallway. It slides open as Spock steps towards it. He moves to the side to allow Jim to have a look. “This is the front bathroom. The shower here is only a sonic. Only the one in my bedroom has the option of using water.”

Peeking inside, Jim gives a little shrug. “That’s fine. Water isn’t a requirement for me.” Even on the _Enterprise,_ Jim seldom used water to shower. It’s the privilege of a shared bathroom between captain and first officer’s quarters but Spock still viewed water as a luxury not to be wasted and Jim only ever needed a hot, steamy bath if it had been a rough mission.

Spock led on to the next door, to their right this time. “This is my room.” He steps inside and looks over his shoulder, nodding as an invitation for Jim to follow.

Eyes wide, Jim steps inside while taking in the window this room has. It’s similar to the living room but looks much more comfortable to sit and gaze at. The head of the bed was pressed up against the wall, parallel to the view of the city. _Must be wonderful getting to fall asleep to a view of the stars._ He looks outside and takes note of the cloudy, grey skies. _Not tonight though. Rain will be here soon._

Noting the enamored look in Jim’s features, Spock idly wonders if perhaps he should let Jim take this room. Looking around there are no many personal items here since most of what little he had went to the ship. It would be easy enough to switch. _I do not think he will approve of you more for letting him take this room. Attempting to impress him will cause him to ask questions._

“Wow, Spock,” Jim says when he allows himself to take in the rest of the room. It’s large, almost as large as the living room. Big closet, personal bathroom and there was a small table in the corner with two chairs. _We’ll definitely have to play chess in here sometime,_ Jim’s mind supplies. Finally, he turns back to Spock. _“This_ is where you stayed during the Academy?”

Jim’s only given a single nod before Spock gestures to the door. “Shall I show you the guest room now?”

“Sure. Does it have a view like this?” Jim asks, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to the outside.

“No. Your window is smaller and faces the building beside this one.” Spock walks out of the room, Jim following with a small pout on his lips.

 _Offering to share my room is out of the question as well,_ Spock tells himself as he tries to ignore Jim’s attempt at… something. Surely he doesn’t think that Spock will trade him. “If you wish to have a larger view, you are welcome to the couch.”

There’s a short pause as Jim seems to actually consider the offer. Then he shrugs. “I suppose that could work if I wanted to put my back through hell… again.” _Spock’s bed looks super cozy though._

The guest room – _Jim’s_ room, Spock corrects himself – is the last door on the left, just before the closet at the end of the hallway. The bed isn’t as big as Spock’s but it looks soft and inviting and definitely preferred over the hard hospital beds. The lacking of beeping machines is certainly a plus as well.

Looking around, Jim finds that, while not large, it’s rather comfortable. The window of course is small like a _normal_ window, but not bad. Jim can see the street below.

“Is this satisfactory?” Spock asks, watching Jim as he begins to explore.

“Satisfactory? I’d say it’s more than that.” Jim sets his backpack on the bed and wanders over to the closet, sliding it open to examine before walking over to the dresser and peeking into the drawers. Upon arriving to the nightstand, Jim lets his fingers graze over the polished wood surface before pausing and going to his backpack. He pulls out a worn paperback novel, his glasses and places them on the nightstand. “There!” He declares, hands on his hips and hums in approval. “I’ve officially moved in.”

The human way of describing a heart as “swelling with joy” is illogical and, medically, makes no sense. Yet Spock can find no other way to describe the flicker of emotion he just felt. Before they arrived, Spock considered that Jim may not desire to stay here. In fact, he felt it was a high possibility.

_For once, I am pleased that my prediction was inaccurate._

**~*~**

When Spock retreats from the room to allow him a chance to settle in, Jim can’t help but feel a little lost all of a sudden. The walls here are matte, not the sleek shine of the metallic bulkheads of his quarters on the _Enterprise._ Sure the bed is softer but everything lacks the sense of _belonging_ that he felt on the ship.

A pang of guilt threatens to consume him when he remembers the state of the _Enterprise_ and the many people that won’t be returning to her.

Slowly, he begins to unpack the rest of his things in an attempt to distract himself. There’s not much to put away though. His backpack only contains a few sets of clothes, PADD, and his communicator. The latter items get placed on the nightstand by his book.

Clothes clutched in his arms, Jim walks over to the dresser to put them away. Just as he’s nearly there though, his knee buckles and a sharp pain shoots up his leg. He gasps, gritting his teeth as he drops the clothes and braces one arm against the wall to stay upright. Attempting to reach down to knead at the pained area only makes it worse. He groans, though still tries to stay quiet; no need to worry Spock any more than he already is.

_Gripping tight, Jim lifts up his legs and kicks at the injector as hard as he can. Everything’s too hot, it’s getting harder to breathe—_

“Damn it!” Jim hisses as he slides down to the floor, tears welling as the pain worsens. With a deep breath, he looks over to his backpack. The front pocket has his pain pills but the damn thing is four feet away. _Might as well be on the fucking roof!_ Jim thinks bitterly as he forces himself up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg as well as the growing headache. _Just what I need right now._

Keeping one hand on the wall, Jim limps forward. His breathing becomes a little ragged from the effort. _This is pathetic. I’ve been through worse._ He has to stop for a moment and take a few breaths before pushing on. Finally he makes it to the bed and sits down before pulling his backpack over, retrieving a pill and swallowing it dry. It’ll take a few minutes to kick in. He regrets not taking the hypo packs McCoy had offered him. _Hate being stabbed with hypos so much but at least the pain would be over sooner than later if I had them right now. I should of just fucking taken them!_

With a bitter groan, Jim hoists his leg up onto the bed and rubs his knee as he waits for the medication to work its magic. Of course there’s not much he can to about his headache until then.

When ten minutes roll by, Jim feels ready to move around again. He stands from the bed and arches, pressing his palms to the small of his back. “Don’t give out on me too,” he murmurs to himself as it pops a few times.

Finally, he gets his clothes put away but then he considers what to do next. There’s his novel he could read but there’s also his PADD. He figures he’ll check his mail first but upon opening his inbox, he mostly finds heartfelt “thank you” and “glad you’re alive” messages. Definitely not ready for that yet. _Thanks for trusting a psycho and nearly starting a war with the Klingons?_

With a huff, he tosses the PADD on the bed. Trying to go through those messages will lead to some dark reflections and he doesn’t need that right now.

He steps out of his room and is hit with a smell of something _fantastic._ Spock said he would be cooking though Jim’s not sure what he expected he would make. Making his way to the kitchen, Jim finds Spock by the stove, stirring some sort of boiling broth.

“That smells amazing! What is it?” Jim asks, walking over to get a proper look.

Spock continues his stirring as he looks over his shoulder at Jim. “I am preparing a vegetable soup. I hope you will enjoy the taste as much as the scent of it.” He pulls the wooden spoon from the pot and sets it aside. “Would you like to help?”

“Oh sure! What can I do?” Jim asks as he goes to the sink and begins washing his hands.

“You may assist me with chopping the remainder of the vegetables.” He pulls an extra cutting board from the cupboard and a second knife from the drawer. “You may start with the carrots,” Spock says as he sets two carrots on the board. “And I will finish preparing the cabbage.”

“Sounds easy enough. If there’s one thing I know how to do right in the kitchen, it’s chopping stuff,” Jim jokes, drying his hands with the hand towel. “I’m only a fair cook with help.” He goes to the cutting board and starts by cutting the top off the first carrot. “Horizontal slices okay?”

Spock nods as he pulls the cabbage from the fridge. “That would be acceptable.”

As they chop together in relative silence, Spock notes that Jim seems to be quite content. _He simply likes having something to do. I will make sure to invite him to assist me in each meal preparation._ Glancing over at Jim, Spock is met with a quick little smile before Jim goes back to dicing the celery.

Later, after all the ingredients have had enough time to properly cook, Jim samples a taste of the soup. He seems to hold the broth in his mouth a moment, considering it and then swallowing it with a satisfied nod. “Definitely good,” he tells Spock with a wink, causing the vulcan to internally fluster for a second. “Could use a few mushrooms though.”

It takes longer than it should for Spock to register what Jim just said. “There are some in the fridge although they may not be the kind that you desire.”

“I’m sure what you have will work,” Jim says as he goes to the fridge and sifts around. Eventually he locates the little, plastic crate of mushrooms and takes them over to the sink to wash.

With Jim turned away, Spock can’t help but stare. Jim’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he scrubs each mushroom carefully and Spock can even see his tongue poking out at the corner of Jim’s lips. Spock has seen that same look over chess games, during the time when they’re filling out reports together and even when Jim’s reading over cultural practices before meeting an ambassador.

It’s an expression that often inspires a _fluttering_ feeling inside Spock. He had himself checked over by Dr. M’Benga the first time it happened but nothing was abnormal. Since then, Spock’s come to realize that it’s simply the way Jim sometimes makes him feel and he’s not particularly interested in meditating it away.

“What?” Jim asks curiously before looking down at the mushroom in his hand. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Spock freezes momentarily, the odd feeling quickly being replaced with embarrassment, although he of course remains seemingly calm on the exterior. “No. I simply… forgive me,” Spock says with a slight bow of his head. “That was very rude of me.” _To stare,_ he wants to admit but somehow he just can’t say it.

Quickly, Spock turns back around and goes to stir the soup more, although the tips of his ears seem to be quite green. Jim withholds any comment and simply chuckles before bringing the mushrooms over to the cutting board.

After the mushrooms are added, it’s another ten minutes before Spock declares the soup “ready for consumption”, to which Jim grabs two bowls.

“You sit. I’ll serve us.”

Spock barely opens his mouth to protest but Jim only shushes him gently and shakes his head. A second later, Spock concedes. No point in arguing over something so small.

Finally being seated at the table with their first homemade meal together, Spock finds that he is unable to eat just yet. Instead, he watches as Jim spoons up a hearty portion of the soup, plenty of vegetables with a little broth. Spock saw him taste it earlier yet there’s this illogical feeling like Jim might taste it a second time and change his mind.

“Ah man I haven’t had home cooking in a long time,” Jim confesses. Spock would almost think that statement was said to inspire sympathy had it not been said with a delighted little smile. “Thanks, Spock.” Jim smiles once more before taking a bite. Spock holds his breath until he hears Jim groan in a very pleased fashion.

“You are welcome, Jim. I thank you for your assistance. I was not sure how much you would enjoy a vegetarian meal.” Finally, Spock picks up his own spoon and begins to eat.

“Don’t worry about it, Spock. I haven’t met a meal I didn’t like,” Jim jokes before remembering his kiwi allergy. “Although I have met food that didn’t like me.”

Despite the lack of laughter or even a grin, Jim can tell that Spock is humored, at least in his eyes alone. Being able to make someone else laugh, even if they don’t do it outright, is good. _Not everyone should have to feel like me,_ he thinks to himself as he dips into his soup for another helping.

Outside, the sky darkens. Droplets begin to tap against the window, going from a light sprinkle to a heavy pour in a matter of minutes.

Jim glances over at the storm and shivers slightly. _Must be cold out there. The chamber was hot but when I died I felt so cold…_

“Jim?”

 _Keep it together,_ Jim reminds himself as he forces a smile. “Sorry. Kind of missed Earth weather is all.” He stirs his soup and resumes eating as his features slowly return to the slight frown that was there before.

Spock stares for a few more moments before continuing his meal, albeit somewhat slowly as he watches Jim from his peripheral sight. Dr. McCoy had told Spock of the mental ailments as a result of what Jim has been through, which was expected but not pleasing to hear. He also mentioned that Jim has a hard time talking through personal matters like that, even to McCoy (although Spock had already gathered as much information from observation before). Spock would never try to force Jim to talk but Spock does hope that Jim will trust him enough someday.

**~*~**

It’s a strange thing to feel so cold despite the temperature in the room being set to something comfortable for a vulcan. Lying on his back beneath the blankets, Spock can’t seem to shake his thoughts of Jim. Earlier meditation didn’t help either.

Seeing Jim go from somewhat content to looking depressed reminded Spock that Jim’s healing is not a process of steadily rising to a state of “better” but being able to take two steps forward and only one step back rather than three.

It doesn’t help that each time he closes his eyes, something haunting presents itself.

_Jim’s hand falls away from the glass as his eyes go blank; Amanda pulling her hand from Spock’s as she gazes upon their dying world. Her last breath is a shout of fear as she falls with the crumbling ledge—_

Spock’s breath comes short as he opens his watery eyes, sitting up quickly and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. _This is illogical. Jim is alive and well in the other room and… mother died years ago._ He looks up and gazes out the window, uncertain if he is going to get any sleep at all tonight. After a moment, he realizes his hands are trembling against his knees.

In an attempt to keep his frustration at bay, Spock stands from the bed and begins pacing by the window, eyes fixed on the floor with his arms crossed. He had thought these night terrors would cease when Jim woke up. Then he was sure it would stop when Jim was discharged from the hospital.

 _What will it take?_ He asks himself. The rain outside falls harder; a proper storm that hasn’t been seen in San Francisco in quite some time.

 _He could have ended up like mother. That **could** have been the last time I spoke with him._ Dread builds in the back of his mind. Even in those seemingly final moments, Spock couldn’t bring himself to admit his true feelings. And even though Jim has a second chance at life now, that could change. They’re not just space-faring scientists. Facing danger is a part of the job.

_I am your **friend.**_

Coming to a halt, Spock turns his gaze back towards the rainy skies. Suddenly his mind is circulating all the different ways Jim could die all over again. For good. Augmented blood can’t cure every kind of death.

_Jim could be sucked out into space, torn apart by a gorn. Perhaps decapitated by a Klingon wielding a bat’leth—_

“No!” Spock growls, surprising himself in how aggressive he just sounded. He braces a hand against the cool glass, his breathing ragged as a cold feeling settles in his chest. “I cannot allow myself to fail him again,” Spock says, closing his eyes only to see a pair of glazed over blue ones stare back. _There will always be risks. I cannot prevent that._

Spock looks up once more and stares out at the city below. _Even earth would not be a safe option. Nero managed to destroy Vulcan and he was only a man of one ship with technology from the future. Harrison destroyed a large portion of this city. Who knows **when** another danger will enter this sector?_

Why did losing Jim hurt so much though? Why did it feel so similar to his mother’s death?

 _She knew I loved her, even if I didn’t show it the way humans do._ Spock lets out a small sigh. _Jim does **not** know though. He only knows that I am loyal and his friend._ His heart ached just thinking about it. _Even if he rejects me, I must tell him. Perhaps then I will have peace of mind._ Spock can clearly picture Jim’s face showing disgust upon hearing that his first officer is attracted to him. It’s not realistic because he knows Jim would be more respectful and they would both be able to resume their work as professionals but still, as illogical as it is, Spock fears the worst.

Pulling away from the window, Spock catches his reflection in the glass. One hand comes up to touch his lips and he notes that they are not soft and plump like Nyota’s. His jaw is too square and there are no smooth, or softly curved features here that Jim would find attractive seeing as he’s only ever shown interest in women or at least the more seemingly feminine kind of aliens.

 _Perhaps he will not be disgusted,_ Spock tells himself as he turns away from the window and heads back to his bed, _but he certainly will not return my desires._

As he pulls back the covers, Spock looks towards the door and contemplates going and checking on Jim, at least to know that he’s safe and well and not—

_Jim’s hand slides away from the glass as his head tips back, staring up as his last breath leaves him. There’s no movement there at all. Just the complete stiffness of death._

“He is fine,” Spock firmly assures himself. He climbs beneath the covers once more. _Dr. McCoy would not have discharged him if he was still in danger of any serious medical problems._ He then closes his eyes and attempts to sleep once more, silently promising himself that he will tell Jim exactly how he feels. Someday.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Spock steps out of his room after meditating for an hour. Unlike his usual mornings, Spock’s ears are greeted by the sound of gentle humming. Upon entering the kitchen, Spock finds Jim stirring something in a saucepan on the stove as he follows his own gentle tune.

“What are you making, Jim?”

The humming abruptly stops as Jim jumps in surprise before looking over his shoulder at Spock, eyes wide before he lets out a breath of relief. “Jesus, Spock. Good morning to you too.” He turns back to the saucepan.

Spock merely quirks a brow before stepping beside Jim to look inside the pan. “You are making oatmeal.” On the counter next to the stove is a bowl of sliced bananas and apples. It somewhat surprises Spock that Jim is actually following Dr. McCoy’s dietary restrictions that he assigned for the first three weeks of Jim being out of the hospital.

“Well I thought since you did dinner, well mostly, I’d do breakfast,” Jim explains with a bashful smile as he sprinkles in some cinnamon. “I mean I can’t compete with that amazing soup but you seemed restless last night so I figured it would help to not have to cook this morning.”

It feels like a heavy stone dropped in Spock’s stomach. He stiffens a moment, not quire looking at Jim but at the oatmeal instead. _What could he have heard?_

“You detected my movements last night?” He almost didn’t want to ask but he needs to know what Jim heard.

Apparently Jim didn’t hear much because he shrugs it off. “I heard you get up out of bed and walk around a little. Don’t worry, you didn’t wake me up though. I just heard you move and then I rolled over and fell back asleep.” Jim looks over at Spock, concern in his eyes. “Did you sleep okay or was that normal? I don’t remember if that’s a vulcan thing to not need as much sleep as humans.”

Spock is quiet before looking up at Jim, squarely meeting his eyes. “I slept enough.”

 _Vulcans cannot lie._ Spock’s words to Harrison echo in Jim’s head before he gave a slow nod. _He paced, I remember hearing that. I don’t remember ever seeing Spock actually pace on the ship though. Was he irritated by something?_ Jim wanted to ask about it, dig further but he figures Spock would talk to him if he wanted to. “Alright, if you’re sure then. Anyway, let’s eat!”

When they’re settled at the table and Spock finally gets a taste of the oatmeal, it brings a certain nostalgic charm that he hasn’t experienced since childhood. “Yesterday you stated that you are only a “fair cook with help”,” Spock says while Jim tucks a slice of apple into his own bowl.

“Well oatmeal isn’t hard.” Jim smiles, “I suppose I should have said that I’m only a fair cook with help _or_ with simple meals.”

“Fair enough,” Spock agrees. _Perhaps while he is here I should offer to teach him some cooking techniques. He seems to enjoy preparing meals well enough,_ Spock mentally notes.

“So what are we doing today? I know Bones said not to strain myself but I’m eager to get some exercise. Lying in that hospital bed for two weeks really hit me hard when I woke up. And then I didn’t even get to leave the bed till a few days later.” Jim recalls the way he had to lie still for days, only able to turn his head and move his arms somewhat. If he’s honest with himself, mental-wise, he doesn’t feel he’s made much progress. Jim then sighs, his shoulders slumping.

“What is wrong, Jim?” Spock sets his spoon down and folds his hands in his lap. Other than to keep Jim out of danger, McCoy told Spock his other main task is to remain open and understanding. That’s not something Spock needed to be told but he understands that as a vulcan he can come off rather judgmental. “This is about more than your lack of physical activity, is it not?”

Blue eyes finally meet Spock’s. “I have a long road to recovery don’t I?”

Spock holds Jim’s gaze and nods. “Yes, Jim. You have been through a lot. Not just physically but also psychologically.”

Jim begins to push around his food as he nods. Suddenly he’s not that hungry, which is strange because he has a habit of being unable to stop eating till he’s finished everything in front of him. Eventually he simply sighs and looks down at his lap. “I mean… I should be more grateful because at least I get a second chance. Right?” How can he feel grateful though? _It was my fault anyhow. God I need to stop talking._

Spock freezes. All the possible implications of that statement are cause for concern. It could mean that Jim is feeling guilty for living while so many had perished. The serum would not have worked on all those crew who had been ejected into space. Of course Jim could also be referring to the fact that he could have never come back at all; he’s lucky that their enemy happened to be their answer. _You deserve more than you know,_ Spock wants to say.

“You are not required to feel a “certain way” about any of this, Jim,” Spock assures. Jim looks up to meet Spock’s gaze. The weight of the sorrows in his eyes brings Spock a great pain as well. “I am— the crew and I are grateful for your return to us. You will not be alone for any length of this path if you do not want to be.”

Unshed tears collect at the corner of Jim’s eyes before he wipes them away, not wanting to give them the chance to fall. With a sniffle, he nods. “Thanks, Spock. I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind. Sorry for—”

“There is no need to apologize.”

A small, though genuine, warm smile tugs at Jim’s lips. _He may not outright say it, but he really cares, huh?_ “Alright.” Jim spoons another bite of oatmeal into his mouth and chews thoughtfully before looking to Spock once more. “So, what’s on our agenda for the day?”

As Spock stirs his own oatmeal, inserting a few banana slices with a fork, he thinks over his list of suggestions. “Exercise is important but Dr. McCoy does not want you overworking your muscles so I recommend going for a walk. There is a park nearby. Perhaps for lunch we could dine at a local eatery.” Spock pauses to give Jim a chance to respond but said man only takes another slice of apple and pops it in his mouth before nodding for Spock to continue. “Of course if there is anything _safe_ that you would like to do, I welcome the suggestions. I would also like to mention that Nyota expressed an interest in wanting to see you when you are feeling well enough. “

“Oh?” Jim says, raising an eyebrow. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that she’d want to see him. During his time at the hospital there were crewman that dropped by for a visits. Scotty wanted to sneak him booze but of course Bones promptly intervened. Everyone else was (fairly) behaved but Uhura not showing up didn’t really bother Jim. He could understand if she was upset with him. “When’s a good day for you? I mean this is _your_ apartment and all.”

Managing to withhold a sigh, Spock tells him, “for the time that you are staying here, please, think of this as your own home.” _Especially considering that yours was destroyed in that section of the city._ “I am amendable to any date although I must inform you that she expects to be invited at least within the week.”

“I can’t imagine she’d be that eager to see me,” Jim says with a strange smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “I thought she wasn’t happy with me for… what I did.”

Spock tilts his head slightly. “For saving our lives?”

Jim huffs and rolls his eyes though continues his odd smiling. “Well even Bones wasn’t happy with my “stunt” even if he was grateful that no more people had to die.”

Spock simply shakes his head. “She did not visit you in the hospital because she was being occupied with work that Starfleet assigned her personally. With what happened on Qo’noS, Starfleet needed anyone fluent in Klingon keeping careful watch of any transmissions they intercepted from the Federation-Klingon Border.”

“Oh… that makes sense,” Jim says, cheeks turning a little pink. “Then I’m glad to know that she’s not disappointed with me.”

“I can assure you that she greatly respects her captain and expects to see him in good health. Currently, she is at the Academy to meet with those who lost loved ones from the ship’s collision that do not speak Standard nor have universal translators,” Spock explains before resuming his meal.

 _If she does care that much, Spock would be the guy to know._ Jim’s not sure if he should be happy to hear that Uhura cares or sad to remember all those people who died. For the sake of Spock, he settles with trying to smile again. “Well I suppose we could have her over Friday then. Today’s Tuesday right?”

It’s not like Spock _can’t_ tell that Jim is saddened. He definitely knows that Jim doesn’t want to speak about this anymore right now though. “Affirmative. Friday is an acceptable time. I will inform her.”

They continue the rest of their meal together in relative silence, though Spock occasionally glances over at Jim who seems to be actually enjoying the food again. Spock finds that Jim’s mood is returning to a relatively normal state for now.

_A long road indeed, but not without support._

**~*~**

In a city so full of technology and little-to-no connection to the natural aspects of earth, the park they stroll through is quite foreign; like another world of its own. Sure, Jim can see the tall buildings over the trees but if he just looks ahead, the gravel path between expanses of green grass under a canopy of multicolored leaves is something out of a fairy tale.

Jim takes in a lungful of fresh air before sighing blissfully. “It’s so good to be outside again. Don’t get me wrong though, I like the recycled air on the Enterprise but I like being surrounded by a little nature once in a while too.” Considering that Jim came from dirt roads surrounded by farm lands, the smell of trees and grass was quite rare for him as a kid. It’s a small reminder that he’s not where he used to be.

“It is good to know that you are enjoying yourself.” As he walks, hands clasped behind his back, Spock takes in the greenery as well. It has been some time since he last visited this park. Seeing Jim enjoy it so much, Spock makes a note that they shall visit more often. “Even before your stay at the hospital, I have come to understand that you tend to be quite restless.”

“Yeah, I’ve always had a hard time sitting still,” Jim admits with a sheepish grin. “Mom used to have to chase me everywhere to so much as get my pajamas on before bed. It’s the only thing that would tire me out, otherwise I’d get up at three in the morning to try and sneak into the living room to watch vids.”

At the mention of Jim’s mother, it occurs to Spock that he has not heard many stories about Jim’s past. He’s aware of some of the more extreme details, such as Tarsus IV, but what about the in-between times? As far as Spock knows, Winona is alive and well yet Jim has hardly spoken of her. “How is your mother?”

“Oh.” Jim looks surprised to be asked. He tries to act casual about it and starts off with a shrug. “Well she came by the hospital the day after I woke up. We talked for a while. She said she was worried about me and when she heard the exact details of what happened with Harrison and the ship, she got to talking about my dad and the Kelvin…” There seems to be tears forming in Jim’s eyes at that. _Don’t cry in front of him!_ Politely, Spock doesn’t press on and simply lets Jim wipe the unshed tears away. “Anyways, she said she’ll visit again sometime soon. She’s uh trying not to be “overbearing” on me.”

Spock only replies with a simple nod and allows the subject to come to a close. _I shall take note not to bring her up again_ , Spock tells himself.

They walk for another half hour, quietly enjoying the blue skies and the cool breeze that rustles the trees. The weather is a welcoming contrast to rainy night they had.

It doesn’t take long for Jim’s mood to lift again, and Spock finds himself silently admiring Jim’s features; the strong jaw and small nose are his favorite physical features. The way those blue eyes took in the sights before them with such interest suddenly made Spock wish they were looking at him.

Until they were.

“Spock?” Jim asks, having turned to see Spock staring at him intently. It takes a short second for Spock to realize he’s been caught and turns away, but Jim saw it. If Spock was looking right now, he’d see the little smile forming on Jim’s face.

“I apologize,” Spock says quickly, keeping his gaze averted. Jim places a hand on Spock’s shoulder and brings them both to a halt.

“Was it something on my face?” Jim’s almost smug as he says it but Spock’s cheeks only tinge green as he shakes his head. “Hey, it’s okay,” Jim tells him, getting Spock to peek at him from the corner of his eye. “I was just joking. I don’t mind.” _In fact, I’m flattered. Has he always looked at me like that?_

With a small sigh, Spock straightens himself though doesn’t quite look at Jim because surely Jim will see the truth in his eyes. _I must control myself._

The short, awkward silence following is broken when Spock hears Jim’s stomach growl. It’s only been two hours since breakfast but Spock welcomes the excuse to change the subject.

“You are hungry?” Spock asks. It’s more like a statement though.

Jim shrugs. “Nah, I can wait until lunch. Sometimes I get a little snacky between meals but it’s no big deal. Really!” It’s futile though. Jim can see the look on Spock’s face and it clearly shows that he’s going over his memorized map of the area and thinking of taking Jim somewhere for a quick snack. Jim’s stomach growls again from the thought of actually getting to satisfy his not-so-important hunger.

With careful consideration, Spock thinks over some of Jim’s preferred foods (that he’s aware of). Occasionally on the Enterprise, Jim will have a hot cup of coffee during his shift but Spock recalls on the rare occasion that Jim would have a frozen beverage filled with fruits. A surprisingly nutritious option while also being delectable. It’s only logical. “There is a smoothie shop nearby,” Spock says, turning to Jim. “It is a short distance from here. We could walk there if you like.”

“We don’t have to,” Jim says, though his cheeks are a little pink knowing that Spock seems to make an effort to remember his preferences for foods. _Is he like that for everyone?_ “I’ll only agree if you want a smoothie too.”

Both of Spock’s eyebrows heighten a bit. “I have never consumed a smoothie before.”

“Really? Uhura never had you try a smoothie?” Jim recalls the many times he’d seen her as a cadet, walking across the schoolyard with a pink or orange smoothie in one hand and a stack of PADDs tucked in the other. Besides, smoothies are usually cute date ideas and she definitely seemed the type to like cute dates.

“Negative. Nyota and I would only dine at establishments that served food that we both preferred. I was not so “adventurous”, so to speak, in my Academy years,” Spock admitted.

“Well it’s a good thing because now you get to experience them with me!” Jim grinned at the idea. “Besides, smoothies are quite logical. They can contain lots of fruits and nutrients!”

While Spock might say that fruits themselves are quite nutritious and it doesn’t _seem_ all that logical, nor that appealing, to blend them in ice, he doesn’t want to squash Jim’s sudden enthusiasm. “Very well. I will also have a frozen beverage.”

“Good, now lead the way!” Of course the statement is followed by Jim taking a few steps in the wrong direction before Spock corrects him.

The smoothie shop in question is only a block away from the park, which is good for Jim because his leg is starting to complain a little. Spock can tell that Jim is walking a slower when they arrive so he makes an effort to slow his pace a little as well. _I should have recommended that we take the vehicle._

“Hey, I know that look,” Jim accuses as Spock opens the door to the shop for Jim to enter in first. There’s a small frown on Spock’s face. “I’m fine. I just need to sit for a while.”

 _He has known me for a few years now. I should not be so surprised that he is able to read me so well_. With a nod, Spock waits for Jim to enter before following him inside. “Very well, Jim. You may rest as long as you like.”

A Bolian man in a yellow apron greets them from behind the service counter. “Welcome, gentleman! How may I assist you today?” Jim approaches ahead of Spock, smiling at the man before looking up to the holo-emitted menu behind him.

“I’d like a smoothie with bananas, peaches and orange juice- oh! And with a protein boost, please.” Jim turns to Spock, who’s still looking at the menu. As the bolian types in Jim’s order on the kiosk, Spock looks to Jim, uncertain.

“What would you recommend?” Spock asks the man.

Oddly excited to be asks, the clasps his hands together, almost bouncing on his heels. “Oh! May I recommend something with a touch of my home world in it? The flavors are a surprise though. I like to think it’s more enjoyable that way!”

Spock glances at the menu again, considering that maybe if it picks something specific, it won’t be too much of a risk. He’s not fond of surprises. “I assume you mean that it contains a fruit or berry that is indigenous to Bolarus IX and not a literal piece of the land?”

The Bolian laughs at that. “I have never met a vulcan with a sense of humor!” He smiles wider. “What size will your drinks be?” He asks, typing in the second order that Spock did not confirm nor deny. He doesn’t object though.

Jim grins at Spock. “Medium. We’ll both have a medium. Oh, and he’s paying,” he says, pointing to Spock.

“Indeed I am,” Spock says, removing his credit chip and tapping it to the kiosk.

“Excellent! I will have your drinks out to you in a moment!”

The two men go to take a seat at booth by the window facing the street. To Jim, the booth seems a bit retro with its red pleather upholstery and the granite table between the two bench seats. It’s definitely a place inspired by humans though Jim recognizes some of the wall hangings as Bolian cultural blessings.

“What is it you find so interesting?” Spock asks, taking a seat at the booth. Jim takes a seat as well, gesturing with one hand to the decorations on the wall.

“Bolian cultural symbols. Uh let’s see, I believe these particular ones are from the southern region of Bolarus IX and they’re usually hung in restaurants, hospitals and places for learning.” Jim ponders a moment, tapping his finger to his lips. “I’m pretty sure they’re meant to signify a “safe space” in a way.”

“I was not aware that you had knowledge of Bolian culture,” Spock says.

“My mom was off-planet a lot when I was a kid. I hated my uncle frank so I’d go to the library as often as I could. One of the librarians was a bolian and she hung similar stuff around the kid’s section.” Jim shrugs, crossing his arms on the table and looking outside. “It kind of helped to feel like there was a sanctuary to retreat to.”

 _There is a lot that I do not know,_ Spock thinks. He’s come to recognize Jim’s current look of disinterest as one that’s merely hiding something he might think is a weakness. Frank was obviously more than an annoyance.

For now, Spock recognizes that the conversation has entered uncomfortable waters at an inappropriate place and time. Besides, Jim most likely would not wish to talk about such things in detail with Spock.

“What sort of books did you enjoy as a child?” Spock asks.

To Spock’s desired effect, Jim’s gaze meets his once more, almost smiling. “I didn’t always read only kid’s books actually. I read Peter Cottontail a few times when I was six but once I could read the chapter books I was quickly moving into a little of everything.” There was one memory in particular that made Jim smile. “I use to grab so many books and tote them over to the kid’s table the librarian gave me a book bag.”

It’s easy to picture Jim as a child, perhaps eight or nine, carrying a bag of books around. Spock almost smiles at the thought alone.

“Here you are, gentleman!” The bolian approaches, grinning ear to ear as he sets down two plastic cups in front of each man. Jim’s drink is a yellow while Spock’s is something more like a royal purple with a swirl of red-yellow.

“Thanks!”

“Yes, thank you.”

The bolian nods proudly and walks back to the service counter, just in time for the bells above the door to chime as three girls enter.

“Quite a character,” Jim says, pulling his drink towards himself and taking a sip from the straw.

“Indeed.” Spock reaches for his own cup but it is quite cold so he pulls his fingers away. He’s about to get up and retrieve some napkins when Jim reaches across the table, pushing Spock’s cup closer to him.

“There. You can just drink it without having to pick it up,” Jim tells him.

Spock looks down at the cup again but scoots back into the seat. He nods in approval. “Thank you, Jim.” Leaning forward, Spock captures the straw between his lips before his eyes widen slightly as he sucks in the icy, slushy texture along with the flavor of mangos, peaches and something tart. Those are most likely the Bolian berries.

Jim can’t help but chuckle from seeing Spock’s expression, though he tries to duck his face away in a fruitless attempt to hide it. He immediately regrets not having a camera right now. “How is it, Spock?”

Sitting up straight once more, Spock quirks a brow. “I believe it is amusing thus far. At least to you it is.”

“Sorry,” Jim says, sheepish. “Really though, do you like it?”

Spock considers it a short moment. “Yes. It is cold but I believe the flavors make up for that aspect.” He takes another sip as Jim grins, rolling the tip of his own straw between his teeth.

 _Gosh, Uhura’s really lucky._ Spock’s eyes are closed as he takes a few more gulps. Jim’s not sure he’s ever really seen Spock _enjoy_ food before. Usually Spock’s every meal, at least on the Enterprise, is treated with the same “enjoyment” as he would have from eating a ration bar. Jim takes another sip of his own smoothie just to get the thought of those horrible things out of his mind.

When Jim’s gaze falls to Spock’s lips, carefully wrapped around the straw, he forces himself to look away. _Don’t let your mind wander, Kirk!_

“So, uh, what are we doing after this?” Jim asks. Spock looks up at him before sitting back against his seat.

“What would you like to do?”

“I hope you don’t think it’s all about what I want to do today. We just went on a walk because I wanted that. Now we’re having smoothies because you know I like them.” _And I can’t even tell you how thoughtful that is!_ “How about we do something you like?”

“Very well,” Spock says with a nod. The top half of his cup is no longer filled so he picks it up from that area and brings the straw to his lips once more.

Jim stares at him expectantly. “Well? What _are_ we doing later?”

Pausing, Spock looks to Jim as if he hadn’t expected to be asked that. “I believe the _surprise_ aspect of my decision will increase the level of enjoyment you might gain from it.”

Jim chuckles. His curiosity may not be satisfied, but Spock’s attempt at humor is enough for now.


	3. Chapter 3

They drive for longer than Jim expected, though he’s not sure _what_ he was expecting. Eventually they’re exiting the busier part of the city into an area that’s a little familiar to Jim but he’s not sure how. While he still wants to ask where they’re going, he knows Spock won’t tell him so Jim simply relaxes against the seat and enjoys the quiet ride.

Spock glances at Jim, assessing his relaxed posture for a second. There’s content there, which is the expected result. In the past, Spock has observed the difference between a Jim that has sated his hunger at an optimal time versus a Jim that had to miss his lunch because the Klingons did not understand the importance of midday meals when they decided to attack.

When Jim is pleased, Spock is too.

Soon a billboard with sehlats comes into view; it reads “Sehlat Refuge” in bold letters at the top. Jim’s eyes light up when he recognizes the creatures pouncing around on the screen. He points to the image as he looks to Spock. “Hey! Those look like the one on your incense tray!”

“Indeed,” Spock says with a nod.

As they get closer to their destination, Jim comes to remember the area. “There was a zoo here. I remember going as a kid.” _One of the few times mom was on Earth long enough to take George and I anywhere._ For the longest time his fondest memory was holding her hand while walking around to look at all the different animals.

Soon they approach those familiar zoo gates but there’s no sign indicating it’s the San Francisco zoo. Instead the sign says “Sehlat Refuge”, just like the billboard. Jim should have figured this was where Spock wanted to take him.

They pull in to the parking lot. There’s not many other vehicles around. In fact, Jim figures that most of them are probably the staff’s.

“What happened to the zoo that was here?” Jim asks as they step out of the car.

“When Nero’s ship drilled into San Francisco, the animals here panicked and injured themselves and their keepers while trying to escape.” After locking the doors, Spock walks with Jim to the entrance. “The ones that survived their injuries were taken to different zoos and wildlife reservations.” They approach the booth in front of another gate. Jim sees a vulcan man inside and he greets Spock with the ta’al gesture.

“Welcome,” he says in the same monotone that Jim has only ever heard from Sarek.

“Thank you,” Spock says in return before pulling his badge from his pocket and handing it to the man.

Scanning it once on his console, the vulcan man nods before handing the badge back to Spock. “Welcome Commander Spock. You and your guest may enter. You will have three point seven hours to visit with the sehlats before we must feed them again.”

“Of course.” They bow their heads to each other respectively before Spock moves towards the gate as it slides open. Jim follows close behind him.

_The place must have been mostly torn apart before being rebuilt,_ Jim observes when he steps past the gate into a concrete tunnel lit with faded orange light. Not that he remembers all of the details from his childhood but he can at least recall that there wasn’t some ominous tunnel to start you off. Still he follows Spock to the daylight at the end of it. It’s not a long walk, maybe the length of a corridor on a starship, but still. It’s odd.

They arrive to yet another gate but it clicks and slides open as soon as they approach. Spock steps outside first while Jim pauses once he’s just beyond the opening, taking a moment to look around the red, sandy terrain. There’s large boulders, synthetic rocky outcrops and even a few palm trees which seemed to have scratched up trunks, but no cages. Jim nearly jumps when the gate suddenly clicks shut behind him.

Then he sees something _big._

“Uh, Spock?” Jim asks, nervously eyeing the bear-sized creature that’s drinking at a little pond. Spock approaches it though, totally not caring that this animal is _huge_ and free! “What the hell kind of place is this?” Jim murmurs to himself, looking around to take notice to the other large bears— _Sehlats! –_ that are napping on some of the boulders. How the hell did he miss seeing all that red and brown fur?

With wide eyes, Jim watches as Spock extends a hand and lightly brushes it across the beasts shoulder. It makes a rumbling sound before looking up at Spock. It sniffs at Spock curiously before roaring, though not loud or threating. It’s like the bear version of a greeting bark from a dog.

Jim doesn’t realize he was holding his breath until he feels it escape him when the beast doesn’t lunge or try to attack. It merely presses the side of its muzzle against Spock’s torso before Spock’s hands come up to rub its head, earning a pleased kind of grumbling sound.

It helps even more when Jim notices the small smile on Spock’s lips as he gazes down at the animal.

_Wow._ Jim grins bright, his heart skipping a beat as he moves to approach Spock when he sees something move in his peripheral. He turns in time to see _more_ large sehlats, and some smaller ones, moving towards Spock, and Jim as well.

“They will not harm you, Jim. They are a kind, loyal species that originate from my home world,” Spock explains in an assuring tone as Jim backs away from the rather old sehlat approaching him.

Unable to turn his gaze away from the two long fangs hanging from its muzzle, Jim tries his best to navigate backwards towards Spock. “Are you sure? Maybe they only like vulcans.” The beady black eyes on the beast peer at Jim and he’s not sure if it’s being predatory or curious.

Spock looks down at the sehlat’s face in front of him, stroking its soft fur rather affectionately. “They will not hurt you, Jim. Simply hold out your hand and you will see.”

_Spock wouldn’t steer you wrong… on purpose,_ Jim internally reasons as he comes to a stop and holds out his hand, allowing the sehlat to enter his personal space. It sniffs at his fingers, the warm air of its breath makes Jim shiver, already imaging that fierce mouth of teeth opening wide to snap his hand off like a dry twig.

Instead they presses their head to Jim’s hand, mewling almost like a cat. With a sigh of relief, Jim combs his fingers through the fur, slowly grinning as the creature continues to make noises of appreciation. Jim turns his head to tell Spock about the excited development but instead he stops short when he sees Spock surrounded by many sehlats now, each trying to sniff or rub their head against him.

If Spock were human, Jim is sure he’d be laughing in some way. All those cold noses and whiskers must tickle. At least a little.

“They really like you,” Jim says with awe in his voice before something bumps against his knee. He looks down to see a young cub, staring at him expectantly as its little tail swings back and forth. Their fur is almost as golden as Jim’s, but with light orange horizontal stripes reaching from shoulder to haunches. Jim chuckles as the little cub makes a playful growl at him so he bends to lift him up.

Spock watches silently as Jim’s attention is consumed by the cub in his arms and their siblings as they approach Jim in hopes of being lifted as well. _He is far too endearing without even trying._

They pet the creatures for a while longer. How much longer, neither seem to care. The younger ones take to Jim more but Spock is pleased to spend a few minutes scratching the chin of a much older sehlat. Their fur is graying and the skin on their neck sags but their attitude rivals a cub when Spock’s deft fingers are getting just the right spot.

Eventually the two men manage to wiggle their way out of the sehlat crowd to take a stroll through the rest of the environment. From what Jim can tell, it seems bigger than the old zoo, though he figures that’s due to the lack of cages and enclosures lead along paths for people to follow. Here, the terrain is wide and flat, occasionally interrupted by red, square boulders or small ponds.

“So this whole place was just torn apart and made into one big vulcan-like environment?” Jim asks. He can see a few hidden windows on fake rocks. It makes sense that most of the observation and lab stuff is underground although he can see house-like buildings in the distance.

“Mostly. There is also a large veterinary center to care for them as well as separate enclosures for their food. Sehlats _will_ eat prepared meats but being able to hunt together builds confidence and communal relationships.” Spock basks in the warmth of the place, silently grateful that Risians lent their weather control technology to keep the Refuge warm for the sehlats at any day of the year.

Jim wipes the sweat from his brow as their boots crunch along the sand and gravel. “I’m a little surprised vulcans would run a place like this.” They’re usually such a fiercely vegetarian species but it makes sense that they understand the sehlat’s inability to change their diet to adhere to Surak’s teachings. Sehlats are creatures of instinct and, frankly, don’t need logic.

“With the home world gone, the remainder of the species needed a place to live. There are very few vulcan species left. The other ones are primarily located on vulcan colonies. Sehlats required many resources though and so Christopher Pike convinced the Admiral board to make a request in consensus for these creatures to be brought here.” A few cubs were trailing at their heels now, playfully pretending to try and nip at Jim’s ankles. “This is of course only a temporary home for them. Until New Vulcan has a stable location, the sehlats will be here for the time being.”

A pang of sadness touches Jim’s heart at the mention of Vulcan and what little remains of Spock’s home. It doesn’t help to know that Pike himself was the one to help these furry beings.

The same cub that Jim lifted before suddenly makes a kind of barking sound, demanding Jim’s attention once more. With a smile, Jim bends to pick him up, cradling the creature close. In an attempt to change the subject, Jim asks, “So are these guys like the equivalent of dogs to humans?”

Spock’s nose wrinkles momentarily at that. “I suppose similar in _popularity._ Dogs are a common pet among humans. Sehlats were quite common for the average Vulcan household. Make no mistake though. A sehlat is considerably more intelligent and, in my opinion, far more loyal.” He doesn’t mention that sehlats have precise feeding times and failing to meet them can result in aggravation.

Jim smirks, chuckling a little. “Speaking from experience?”

With a nod, Spock explains. “My father had a sehlat. His name was I-Chaya. He was passed on to me in my youth. I took care of his meals, brushed his fur and in return he walked me to school and kept me company when I would study.”

There’s no way Jim can stop smiling now. The thought of a smaller version of Spock walking to school with a _bear_ is too precious. “I suppose if anyone could tame a species this big and fierce,” Jim says, looking down at the fangs that are only beginning to show on the cub, “it _would_ be you guys.” He scratches the little cub’s head, earning a pleased, low purr.

Jim then nuzzles with the sehlat, laughing when it attempts to nip at his nose.

As Spock silently admires the display, he goes over his mental notes.

**_Notes_ ** _\- Jim’s mood can be positively influenced by cooking, sweet foods, relaxing walks and sehlats._

“Can uh can anyone adopt a sehlat?” Jim asks, drawing Spock from his thoughts.

“Why do you ask?” Spock inquires, although Spock already has an idea.

Jim grins and looks down at the cub. “I think this one adopted me.”

Not wanting to bring down Jim’s mood, Spock opts for the neutral answer. “That is not up to me. You would have to speak with the keepers.”

With a small sigh, though his smile remains, Jim looks back up at Spock. “I know I can’t. It’s… it’s a nice thought though. Isn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

**~*~**

The sun is just _barely_ up when the doorbell rings. It draws Jim from his sleep, one eye peeking open to look at the time on his chronometer. He groans when the numbers aren’t favorable and rolls over, trying to go back to sleep.

With the awareness that Jim prefers not to be awoken for at least another hour, Spock goes to answer the door. He’s not surprised when the familiar, less than pleased face of Dr. McCoy stands before him with a medic shoulder bag slung over one arm and three buttons undone at the top of his slightly rumpled grey shirt. It’s odd to see the man out of uniform.

He nods to Spock. “Morning. I’m here for Jim’s checkup, although I wouldn’t think I’d need to explain that to you.”

“Not at all,” Spock says as he steps aside for the doctor to enter. “Although I must warn you that he is still asleep and—”

“No problem,” McCoy says with a smirk as he marches towards the guest room. “I was his roommate for three damn years. I know how to get that farm boy outta bed!” Both curious and appalled, Spock follows McCoy into the small bedroom.

“Doctor, can you not give him another hour? I will prepare coffee if you like.” _Jim needs his rest!_

“I’ll take the coffee and you should probably bring Jim one too. I can’t put this off though since I get to spend the day with Joanna and I’ll be meeting her at 0700,” McCoy explains, turning around and walking backwards so he can offer Spock an _almost_ apologetic shrug.

Suppressing a sigh, Spock turns on his heel and heads to the kitchen; for Jim’s sake, Spock will leave Dr. McCoy to his work and make coffee for them both. Perhaps he’ll even prepare some blueberry scones for Jim.

Meanwhile, McCoy steps into Jim’s room, huffing when he sees the curtains covering the window. He quickly goes to fix that, earning a groan from Jim as the light falls directly on him.

“Bones!” Jim whines, tugging the blankets over his head. “You promised you wouldn’t do this!”

“That was before Jocelyn agreed to let me have Joanna for the day and since I have to keep a consistent eye on you, I’m not skipping today’s appointment.” Bones commands the lights on as well before stalking over to the bed. He sets his medic bag on the nightstand before rubbing his hands together like a villain. “Come on kiddo, I know you missed this!” He reaches for the edge of Jim’s comforter and dramatically yanks it off.

With a defeated sigh, Jim lies on his back and folds his hands over his chest. “Fine. Do your doctor thing. The sooner this gets done, the sooner I can try getting a little more sleep.”

“Or maybe you could take advantage of the time and get ahead on any activities with the hobgoblin you had planned,” Bones suggests as he pulls a medical tricorder from his bag and begins scanning Jim. “Now, anything unusual going on lately? Have the pain spikes or joint problems decreased in frequency at all?” Normally surgery or dermal regenerators would have fixed physical problems like that but for some reason it hadn’t worked for Jim. Their best guess was to just give it time.

Jim shrugs, turning his head away. “Sometimes my back hurts when I lay on it and my knee still gives me problems if I’m standing too long but it doesn’t randomly give out as often as it used to.”

McCoy can tell Jim’s omitting things though. Gently, he presses on as his scanner beeps, indicating that Jim’s body doesn’t seem to be getting enough rest. McCoy feels a pang of guilt for that. “Anything else?”

Jim gets quiet at that, tapping his fingers against his chest until he turns to stare at the ceiling. “I sometimes have a hard time sleeping through the night.”

“Are you waking up because of joint pain or for some other reason?” McCoy keeps a careful eye on Jim’s face. He can spot the kid’s lies easy, he just hopes that Jim won’t try to.

“I don’t fall asleep right away. Usually I’m stuck laying there for an hour or two and sometimes when I’m about to fall asleep my back starts to hurt.” Jim tries to shrug it off.

With a sigh of his own, McCoy tucks away his tricorder. “That might be a symptom of your mental trauma. I’ll leave you some sleeping pills though. Take a painkiller before bed as well. You’ll be able to get to sleep quicker.” McCoy fixes Jim a stern look. “And I’ll be leaving you hypos for any serious pain spikes and I fully expect you to use them too. I’ll be by twice a week to check on you and bring refills. Figure you’d need them.”

Just as McCoy is taking out a box of hypos for Jim, Spock enters the room with two steaming mugs of coffee. “Here you are, Doctor, Jim.” Spock hands a mug to McCoy first and then Jim, who accepts it with a smile.

“Thanks, Spock,” Bones says, setting the box of hypos next to Jim before taking a long sip. Of course it’s hard to enjoy his drink when Jim opens the little case of hypos and makes a face before closing it and pushing it aside. “Seriously? I told you it was hypos! What did you think it was, candy?”

With an innocent shrug, Jim drinks his coffee.

“Is Jim in good health then?” Spock asks, looking between the two men.

McCoy thinks about it a moment. “Well for the most part he’s definitely getting better.”

Spock quirks a brow. “And?”

“And?” McCoy furrows his brows and glances at Jim, who gives him a small nod. “He’s been having some problems getting to sleep. I’m leaving him some sleeping pills though as well as hypos for chronic pain.”

“Why did you not inform me of this before?” Spock asks Jim. He only gets a shrug in response. “I could have assisted by teaching Jim some basic meditation techniques.”

“Wasn’t a big deal,” Jim insists while keeping his eyes from meeting Spock’s. _I should have been honest sooner. Now Spock’s going to worry even more._

“Anyways,” Bones cuts in. He downs the rest of his coffee before tugging his shoulder bag back on. “Jim’s not dying,” _so far,_ he quietly adds to himself.  “His joints look a lot stronger and, as I told him, I’ll be by twice a week to check on him, though I’d like to stop by between those times just as a friend. Don’t want him associating all my visits with doctorly prodding.”

“Of course,” Spock says. He looks to Jim again. Just as he’s about to say something, a timer in the kitchen goes off. “Excuse me,” he says, leaving to check on his scones.

When Spock leaves, Jim, sounding rather bored asks, “Anything else, Bones?”

“Well _gee_ , and I here I was thinking I didn’t make much of a difference! Thank you for showing some appreciation, Jim.” Dripping with sarcasm, McCoy takes a small bow. “To answer your question though, no, not unless you have anything to ask me.”

Looking down at his half-empty cup, Jim tries to think of the _least_ awkward way to ask his question. “So I um… I remember you told me that sex wasn’t exactly _recommended_ but what about… masturbation?” Considering the fact that McCoy has seen him naked countless times and caught Jim in the act with Gaila twice, it shouldn’t be this awkward to talk about this sort of thing. _And yet…_

Unfazed by the topic, McCoy presses a fist to his chin in ponder. Eventually he raises both eyebrows, somewhat surprised with himself. “Even knowing you for as long as I have, I hadn’t thought that I’d need to be clearer about this.”

“And knowing _you_ for as long as I have, I had thought you would have anticipated this!”

“Look, Jim, it’s not like I expected you’d even be able to get into any sort of _mood_ while living with the hobgoblin!” It’s a fair enough point but only because Jim’s never admitted to his best friend about his _slight—_ and totally not a problem _—_ crush on Spock.

_Maybe if I just told him that I need a way to distract myself from being attracted to a guy with a girlfriend, I could get some advice._

_Nah._ Jim nods at McCoy’s assumption. “Okay fair point but come on, it’s not like I’m always going to be under his supervision while I’m here! Sometimes he goes to run errands at the temporary ‘Fleet headquarters at the Academy and I, of course, get the place to myself or go get a coffee. There’s plenty of time to—”

“You’ve made your point!” McCoy tells him, holding up a hand for Jim before he ends up giving him too many details. “Fine. Look there’s nothing wrong with having orgasms. I only advised against sex because I know you prefer things rough—oh don’t give me that look! The dorm rooms weren’t _soundproof_ and I had to watch you and Gaila at it for a full _thirteen_ awful seconds before I registered what the hell was happening on _my_ bed!”

“I apologized for that!” Jim insists. “I appreciate not having that held against me for the rest of my life! It’s not like we meant to. It just… happened?”

 McCoy huffs when Jim pouts at that. “Anyways, if you do get around to finding a partner within the next, say three weeks, stick to oral stuff. They can also ride you but again, nothing too rough. I can’t think of too many things that kills a mood faster than joints locking up, and knowing how prideful you can be I know you’d try to finish while suffering through one. You can make things worse that way. A lot worse.”

Jim nods because he can at least admit to that. “You’re right. Thanks for the info then. I promise I’ll do my best to avoid any boner related injuries.” Bones gives him a warning glare because past promises of _not_ getting hurt have usually become guarantees of the exact opposite happening. “Besides, it’s be weird to bring back anyone to the apartment. I mean Spock technically shares it with his dad.” Gesturing with one hand, he waves off the idea. “Total mood killer.”

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. Are we done now?” McCoy checks his watch and Jim has to bite back a chuckle because honestly McCoy is the first and only person he’s seen in his life that actually wears one.

Mercifully, Jim nods and stands from the bed. The two men walk out into the front area to see Spock using a spatula to sort some fresh scones from a metal tray and into a small tub. He looks up when they approach.

“Are you departing now?” Spock asks as he snaps the lid onto the tub. Jim swipes a scone from the tray and takes a bite.

“Yeah. I got to go meet Jojo now. You two try to stay out of trouble ‘til my next visit,” McCoy warns. He’s about to turn and leave when Spock hands him the tub.

“For you and Joanna,” Spock explains. “Give her my regards and also know that you are invited to have dinner with us on Friday. Nyota will be attending as well.”

McCoy’s face actually lights up. “She’ll love these! Thanks.” Jim nearly has to do a double take when McCoy actually smiles at Spock. “And I’d love to join you two.” He checks his watch again before waving and making his way to the front door. “See ya later!”

“Bye!” Jim yells back before McCoy disappears through the door. He turns back to Spock and holds up the scone in his hand. “These are really good! Just what I needed after being woken up like that.” He takes another bite.

“I am pleased that you are enjoying them.” Spock sorts the rest of the scones onto a plate before preparing some tea for himself.

After breakfast, Jim goes to take a shower while Spock decides to sort through his messages. Just as he’s finished replying to a message from Sarek, his PADD pings with a new one. It’s from McCoy.

_Listen, Spock, I didn’t get a chance to tell you so I thought I’d_  
just send a message real quick before me and Jo head to the  
beach. **You’re really making a difference with Jim**. He’s still  
trying to act proud and pretend like nothing about this should  
be anyone’s problem but his own but I can tell he’s definitely  
happier now than he was at the hospital.

_Keep an eye on him though. He plays off the sleep issues but_  
he’s still having some struggle there. Try insisting on that  
meditation idea again. Pills and hypos can only do so much for  
a man’s mind.  
  
\- Leonard H. McCoy

Spock looks over the message once more. He’s not sure how he should respond to that but he’s grateful to know that his efforts are proving somewhat useful. As long as Jim is getting better, that’s all that really matters to Spock.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s been a long time since Jim’s been inside an actual store. Too long. The aisles of fresh, (mostly) Earth grown foods is almost too tempting. Each time Jim reaches out to grab another cucumber or perhaps another grapefruit, he has to gently remind himself that he and Spock don’t need _that_ much more food.

Over the past week that Jim has been staying with Spock, most of the grocery shopping happened when Spock was on his way home. He’d pick up a few things like almond milk and stuff to make dinner and perhaps a snack cake for Jim, but this time Jim insisted that he tag along.

Besides, the last time he went grocery shopping was during the Enterprise’s repairs after taking on Nero. He’d gotten his own apartment and spent those weeks mostly in Bones’ or Gaila’s company. It’s too bad Harrison had to go and drive the ship into that part of the city.

Then again, Jim wouldn’t have the chance to spend so much time with Spock. It is strange though that Spock hasn’t really taken the time to go out with Uhura though.

“Do you have um stuff for baking?” Jim asks Spock as they stroll between crates of fresh fruits.

“That depends on what you are wanting to bake,” Spock answers as he pauses to examine some oranges.

“Maybe a pie? I was thinking apple. There are so many different ways to make it though…”

“Have you made pies before?” Spock turns to see Jim examining a few different apples, his brows furrow as if he’s trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

“No but… I’ve been wanting to try. Since I’m not allowed to do any actual work, I figure medical leave could be spent picking up a new skill.” He shrugs, though Spock can tell that Jim is quite sincere; he likes to be kept busy, and without something to do, he will not be pleased.

“Very well. You may utilize my grandmother’s recipe if that is acceptable. I have flour and white sugar at the apartment but we will need to gather everything else.” Plucking one of the paper bags from the dispenser, he hands it to Jim to put the apples into. Jim inserts the two apples in his hand before taking the bag. “I recommend that you pick out eight to ten apples. I will retrieve the other ingredients.”

“I hope I can do your grandma justice,” Jim says. He seems to light up and begins searching through the apples more enthusiastically. It occurs to him that Spock has never spoken of the human side of his lineage. _Surely Amanda still has family somewhere on this rock…_

Leaving to retrieve the other necessities for apple pie, Spock silently wonders if he should have insisted that Jim try something simpler than an apple pie. Perhaps chocolate chip cookies would have been better? Spock then gives himself a stern reminder that Jim is a grown man, not a child. Besides, he shouldn’t be doubting him so soon. _If he does not succeed the first time, then it is just a learning experience. I am sure he’ll understand._

They meetup later in the frozen section where Jim looking through the ice cream selection. “I’m an _à la mode_ kind of guy,” he explains, smiling sheepishly at Spock. “I’m not taking too long am I?” There’s a little bit of guilt there seeing as Spock is the type to go into a store for _exactly_ what he needs and then leaves in a timely manner.

“Not at all, Jim. You may take your time seeing as I have no other appointments for today.” With a nod of assurance from Spock, Jim only ponders a few more moments before grabbing a tub of vanilla.

“No reason to get too fancy,” he says as they walk to the checkout.

When they’re finally back in the apartment, Spock offers to help Jim bake as he sets out the necessary ingredients on the island counter.

“Nah. I think I can handle myself,” Jim says, waving a hand.

“Very well.” Spock leaves Jim with the recipe, cooking utensils and retreats to his room to meditate.

Starting off with the simple step, Jim measures out the flour and sugar he’ll need to make the sauce mixture and sets it on the counter next to the stove. He can’t help but hum to himself as he peels the apples, finding a rhythm to the task. Perhaps he’ll actually miss having a proper kitchen when they return to the ship for the 5-year mission.

 _Does Spock even like apple pie?_ Jim suddenly wonders when he gets to slicing the apples. He imagines that maybe the pie would turn out so good he’d manage to get one of those _almost_ smiles from Spock. The idea gives him a new sense of confidence.

Things go wrong starting with the butter.

“Crap!” He mutters to himself as it burns at the bottom of the saucepan. Pulling it from the burner, he turns down the heat and goes to clean out the pan to try again. On the next try he manages to melt the butter correctly but then come the moment to carefully stir in the flour to make a neat “paste”. He hurries to trade the rubber scraper for the whisk but the damage is done.

Looking between the lumpy pile of the flour/butter mixture he made and the image of the intended result on his PADD that he has propped up next to the stove, Jim sighs and starts again.

Unfortunately his movements are much less careful and gracious on the next try. He stirs the butter and flour a little too roughly and then deems the paste “good enough” before adding the water and sugar.

 Thankfully Spock had insisted on buying a pre-made crust because upon seeing the sugary water boiling in the saucepan, Jim’s not sure he’d have the patience to make _that_ from scratch too.

“Please be good,” he quietly pleads to the pan as he goes to take it off the burner. Forgetting to grab his oven mitt, he touches the bare, metal handle and burns his finger. “Fuck!” Spills from his mouth, loud and angry. He jerks his hand from the pan and ends up knocking it over to spill its contents across the floor. Jim hurries backwards in time to miss being scalded but it doesn’t matter. He stares at the floor, shoulders slumped and suddenly feeling far too tired for anything.

Tears well at the corner of his eyes before he’s rubbing them, trying to ebb away any stupid feelings of inadequacy because _come on_ it’s not a big deal.

“Jim?” Comes Spock’s voice from the hallway.

Hurriedly, Jim makes sure to wipe all the moisture from his face before turning to look at Spock. “Yeah?”

With a glance behind where Jim is standing, Spock hardly reacts to the mess. “Are you all right? I heard you shout.”

“Yeah yea, I’m fine,” Jim insists. He walks over the mess and grabs the towel hanging off the oven handle and diligently begins wiping up the mess. “Just uh, just touched the hot part of the pan and then I knocked it over. I’m sorry it was—”

“There is no need to apologize, Jim,” Spock tells him in a gentle tone as he taps a button beneath the counter. A little saucer-shaped bot comes hovering out from a rectangle door beneath the sink. It beeps at Jim so he moves the towel and pan out of the way. Then the little robot does its job of spraying foam over the mess and then scrubbing. It whirs gently as little lights on the top blink in blue and purple.

Jim turns his face away as he stands, putting the pot in the sink and walking around to go dispose of the rag in the laundry basket. When he returns, he goes to put the other utensils in the sink but Spock stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Will you not try again?” He asks, his grip squeezing lightly in an attempt at emotional comfort. Jim is clearly upset but Spock knows better than to state something Jim is clearly trying to hide.

“Nah. I don’t want to make another mess,” Jim mumbles, though he pauses from putting the measuring cups in the sink.

With a glance back towards the raw pie crust neatly laid in the pan, and the fresh cut apples, Spock insists, “Together.”

“What?”

“I would like to assist you this time, if you will allow me to.”

Thinking it over, Jim rubs the back of his neck, trying not to sigh. _I can’t even do this **one** thing! I always end up needing help…_

He wants to tell Spock no, admit that he’s feeling bad about the spill but one look at Spock’s eyes and the words die in his mouth. Those brown eyes are understanding; _warm._ Spock’s not taking pity on Jim. He just wants to help.

“Okay um… how about you do the butter and flour part? I uh managed to get it right once and I think that was due to luck,” he tries to joke, chuckling a little awkwardly.

“Very well.”

After the pan is cleaned and the little bot retreats back into his hiding place, Spock begins the sauce preparation while Jim goes to arrange the apple slices into the pan. It’s not something requires _that_ much attention but Jim uses the task as a way to help himself calm down.

“Did you want to stir in the water and sugars?” Spock asks. Jim looks over to see that he already has the paste part going.

 _He makes it look so easy,_ Jim observes. “Yeah, sure. Uh did you want to do the top crust?”

“Affirmative.” They move around each other to trade stations, bumping elbows a moment, not that either of them mind it.

With a preciseness Jim would only expect from a master chef, Spock manages to decorate the pie quite beautifully. There’s even little pie crust bits shaped like leaves on it. Going to such efforts on food doesn’t seem very “logical” to Jim but he won’t risk upsetting Spock by calling it a human indulgence. Besides, it’s a cute touch, made all the more endearing knowing Spock had crafted them.

As the pie sits in the oven to bake, the two men retreat to the couch. “Should we save it for dinner with Bones and Uhura tomorrow?” Of course Jim’s stomach rumbles when the sweet smell of hot apple pie begins to waft through the apartment. Leaning back against the couch, he looks over at Spock. “Or maybe not,” he quickly adds after that. “Maybe it won’t be very good. I don’t think we should risk serving them a pie if we don’t even know how good it is, right?”

Only _just_ managing to withhold a small smile, Spock shakes his head. “I believe it would be logical to save it for tomorrow. I understand that humans often expect dessert when they are guests for an evening meal.”

Jim rolls his eyes and pretends to be disappointed by crossing his arms. _“Fine!_ It’s not like Bones would say that an apple pie is unhealthy! Especially topped with ice cream!” Every word of it is sarcasm and Spock understands.

“Then perhaps Nyota, Dr. McCoy and I will consume the pie tomorrow. You may have serving of the vanilla ice cream by itself.”

Eyes wide, Jim takes a moment to fully register that Spock actually returned the sarcasm. Then a wide grin spreads across his lips before he throws his head back and really laughs for the first time in much too long.

It is a sound much sweeter than anything Spock has ever heard.

**~*~**

“You’re sure you’re fine with us having pizza?” Jim asks as he began cutting even slices into said pizza.

The expression on Spock’s face is perhaps the Vulcan equivalent of Bones’ “are you stupid?” look.

“That is an illogical question seeing as we have already prepared the pizza, from fresh ingredients at your insistence so that we could still follow your dietary restrictions, and our guests are due to arrive in less than six minutes.” He tugs down the hem of his grey turtleneck to straighten out the wrinkles once more while Jim chuckles.

“Alright, but it’s not too late to perhaps order some soups and salads from that little restaurant down the street.” _Come to think of it, ordering salads would be a bad idea._ Jim can just picture Bones seeing him willfully eat one without being told he needs to. It would probably give him a heart attack. _Either way, I better eat an extra slice of pie so he doesn’t get the wrong idea. Don’t need him getting cheeky about me eating better on my own for once._

It’s just that Spock’s not one for “finger foods” and Jim doesn’t want him sticking with something just because Jim suggested it. He can’t help but feel selfish even though Spock had stated several times that it wouldn’t be a problem.

The pizza smells great though. Extra cheese and mushrooms along with a few other veggies that Spock had carefully arranged in an oddly appealing manner. Almost every slice had close to equal amounts of each topping. And sure, normally Jim will get a pizza with pepperoni or chicken but Spock’s vegetarian preferences are kind of rubbing off on him lately so they didn’t bother making two different pizzas.

The doorbell rings and Spock goes to answer it while Jim pulls the pitcher of iced tea from the fridge. He hears the door open and then Uhura’s voice greeting Spock. While Jim is looking forward to seeing her, he’s not interested in seeing their reunion make-out.

“Jim?” Uhura asks, suddenly only three feet away. He jumps and nearly knocks over the glass he was trying to fill.

“Uhura?” He turns to see her, admiring her simple, green dress a moment before looking back and forth between her and Spock a few times. Jim’s clearly confused as to why she was so quick to come see him and not stop to kiss Spock. She hardly reacts though, only smiling softly and raises her arms expectantly. “I mean it’s good to see you,” he corrects, setting down the pitcher and pulling her into a hug. Grinning, he presses his cheek against her forehead.

Then he realizes that her grip on him is rather tight but he’s not eager to let her go either. It’s the first time they’ve properly talked face to face in weeks.

She pulls away first, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Jim realizes he’s a little watery too.

“It’s good to see you, Jim. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to visit sooner,” she says, her voice wavering a little.

Shaking his head, he rests a hand on her shoulder. “No, no don’t apologize. I hear they kept you busy. I’m proud of the work you do.”

“Thank you _Captain_ ,” she says, unable to resist hugging him again though Jim doesn’t mind one bit.

Quietly watching the display from beside the door, Spock suddenly finds that he feels out of place. He looks around a moment, fidgeting and tugging down the hem again. Jim and Nyota’s voice begin to mingle, occasionally interrupted by laughing. He strangely looks forward to McCoy’s arrival.

Finally the doorbell rings again. McCoy is surprised at how quickly Spock answers it. With a raised eyebrow he nods to Spock. “Evening. Sorry for being a couple of minutes late.” He glances over to the kitchen where Jim and Uhura are still chatting away. With a small, knowing smile, he pats Spock’s arm. “The two most talkative people we know. It’s inevitable. Here, I brought a bottle of wine. Might want to save it for after dinner as I hear there may be dessert.”

“Thank you. I suppose Jim informed you,” Spock says, taking the bottle and stepping aside for McCoy to enter. He looks over the label although the brand and flavor don’t mean anything to Spock seeing as he’s not one for alcohol. Still, it’s something to occupy his hands so he’s grateful.

“Pizza?” McCoy asks, hands on his hips as he approaches the counter to gaze upon it. “I don’t know, Jim. Is this _really_ the healthiest option right now?”

“No but it’s the tastiest when having people over right? Besides, Spock and I took the time to make it ourselves!” Jim points to the toppings. “And are you going to argue that all those veggies on it mean nothing?”

Rolling his eyes, McCoy shakes his head though smiles fondly. “Of course you did. Looks good though. Smells amazing too.”

Uhura nods in agreement before pausing and tilting her head to the side. “Unless this is like that time in the mess hall when Jim and Scotty tinkered with one of the synthesizers.”

“Oh come on.” Jim waves it off. “Cooking by hand isn’t nearly as complicated as trying to reprogram a synthesizer to make jello that _isn’t_ watery.”

“Right but then it was spicy and hard.” Uhura makes a tsk sound and shakes her head. “But seeing as Spock’s apartment isn’t on fire, this should be good.” Bone and Uhura laugh at that, while Spock looks to Jim and sees the way he pauses, eyes downcast.

While Jim knows that Uhura doesn’t _actually_ mean anything by it, he does feel a little hurt anyhow. _Of course. Spock’s help is the only way I manage to do anything right._

Before they’re attention can be drawn back to Jim and perhaps causing him anymore discomfort, Spock clears his throat. “You are all welcome to serve yourself and take a seat. That means you as well, Jim. I will finish pouring tea.”

Jim snaps out of his daze and nods. He gets some plates from the cupboard to hand out. While Uhura and Bones are busy picking out a couple of slices, Jim gives Spock a grateful nod.

“Been a while since I had a good, home cooked meal,” McCoy says when they’re settled at the table. He takes a bite of his first slice before closing his eyes and groaning in appreciation. “That’s definitely good pizza.”

“It better be,” Uhura jokes as she takes a bite as well, humming in delight. Jim chuckles when a string of cheese gets caught on her chin.

“I take that as a sign if approval?” Jim asks, smiling over at Uhura. From beside Jim, Spock picks up his fork and knife and neatly cuts a small piece for himself.

“Oh yes! I think you two could make a booming business. This is better than any of the local places that I’ve tried,” Uhura says. Jim can tell from her smile that the compliment is genuine. McCoy agrees with another grunt of approval as he takes another bite.

“Oh sure. I could be the happy chef tossing dough in the air while Spock does the toppings and sauces.” Gently nudging Spock with his shoulder seeing as his hand is occupied with pizza, Jim nods towards Uhura. “What do you think Spock? Doesn’t her idea sound awesome?”

“I fail to see how we would find the time to run a pizza parlor while maintaining our position as captain and first officer,” Spock states bluntly. Still, the idea of having something like that to share with Jim does have a certain appeal.

“Alright. We’ll just save it as a retirement idea?” Jim suggests.

“Perhaps.”

The three humans laugh together. It’s quite funny to picture Jim and Spock in their later years running a pizza place together. McCoy imagines they might have a hard time getting Jim to stop eating the inventory though.

Later, when the pizza is all gone, the four of them sit for a few minutes, simply chatting and feeling quite full. That is until Jim goes to retrieve the pie from the fridge.

“Hope this is okay. Spock and I made it yesterday,” Jim explains as he gets some small plates to serve everyone. “Anyone want ice cream on theirs?”

Uhura lets out a “ha!” and crosses her arms. “I think it’s better to ask who _doesn’t_ want ice cream with pie.”

“I do not,” Spock says evenly. “Frozen foods are not… preferable.”

McCoy looks like he wants to make a snide comment but Jim nods. “I figured that much. Fine, I’ll just pile extra onto my plate in your honor, Spock!”

“Hey! I should get some of that,” McCoy insisted.

“Okay, fine! I’ll split Spock’s share between all three of us.” Jim shakes his head, grinning as he begins cutting into the pie.

It is then that Uhura suggests a pizza parlor that also serves pie. Bones insists that there better be salads too. It’s a familial moment that Jim finds he’s savoring, not wanting it to end. Having everyone around him, enjoying each other’s company and sharing good food; he can’t recall the last time he’s had something like this. Sure there were friendly conversations in the mess hall but between him and his closest friends like this? It’s amazing.

When it’s time for their guests to leave, Jim finds that he has to force himself not to cry. It’s stupid though because he’ll see Bones on a semi-regular basis and Uhura has already promised to drop by when she can, maybe bring Jim along to one of her favorite diners next week.

Before Uhura departs though, she hugs Jim tight once more. “Don’t do that again,” she whispers. Jim knows she’s not talking about dinner. “Ever.” She pulls back and gives him a watery smile, petting his jaw fondly like the sisterly person she’s become in his life.

Knowing that he can’t _really_ make that promise, they say their goodbyes and Uhura departs. As Jim watches the door slide shut, McCoy suddenly claps him on the shoulder from behind before walking around to face him.

“Same time next week?” He asks, looking hopeful. It seems he really has missed home cooking. Or maybe he really liked the atmosphere of comfortable friendship. Joanna isn’t allowed to be a frequent presence in his life and being around other people he actually likes is a great comfort. Jim and Bones are similar in that respect.

“Absolutely. Come by when you have the time. Right Spock?” Jim asks, looking over his shoulder to where Spock was busy getting the dishes into the sink.

“Of course. Dinner is always served at 1800. You are welcome to join us any day you like. There will always be enough.” Spock nods to McCoy before returning his attention to the dishes.

“Good. I’d like that,” McCoy says. “I’ll see you two later then. Thanks again for the meal!” Jim walks him to the door, patting his friend’s back.

Just as McCoy sweeps out the door, he says to Jim, “Try not to get _too_ domestic with the hobgoblin!”

Eyes going wide in surprise, Jim simply stares at the door sliding closed behind his best friend. _Didn’t even give me enough time to retaliate!_ He’s not really that bothered by the comment though come to think of it so Jim goes to help Spock in the kitchen. Bones can think whatever he wants.

And if Jim and Spock happen to become comfortable living together, well that’s just a positive development.

Still, his mind comes back to the fact that Spock and Uhura didn’t kiss _at all_ during her visit. At first he might tack it on to Spock trying to be conservative and polite about PDA, but he’s never really been shy about lip-locking with her before.

 _Did they really break up?_ Jim wonders. He busies himself in putting the rest of the pie away while Spock sees to organizing the dirty dishes into the recycler unit. Jim looks to Spock, whose back is turned to him. “What happened between you and Uhura?” He blurts before turning away, blushing a little.

“You mean in regards to our relationship status?” Spock’s voice is calm. Jim’s not sure if it’s a good or bad sign. He really shouldn’t be poking at a possible sore spot but he just has to know.

“Yeah. I just uh… I couldn’t help but notice the lack of affection between you two is all,” Jim admits. The pie is put away and there’s not much else to do so he crosses his arms and leans against the counter. It’s important to remain casual. “It’s none of my business though so I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Silence follows the statement and suddenly Jim feels like there’s a rock in his stomach. What a shitty way to end such a great evening.

Just before he can manage to voice and apology, Spock finally speaks. “She terminated our relationship shortly after the Enterprise was docked for repairs.” He says it as if he’s stating some facts to his group of science officers. Jim feels worse.

“Oh well… I’m sorry to hear that.” Jim’s words are empty though. In truth he’s… he’s not sure right now. For the most part he knows that he feels guilty for being _hopeful_ now that he knows the truth. _I’m such an asshole._

What’s more alarming is that Spock actually sighs, heavy and burdened. “If you are inquiring because you are still interested in pursuing her, I do not have any qualms—”

“What?!” Jim nearly shrieks, arms uncrossing his arms to hold his hands up in protest. “That _definitely_ was not on my mind!”

Spock is visibly taken aback when he turns around to face Jim properly. “You are certain?”

“Of course! Why would I—oh my god do you think I’m _that_ bad? I mean I know rumors traveled at the Academy but…” Jim sighs, combing a hand through his hair as he braces a hand against the counter. “She’s my friend and even if I was still attracted to her I’m not the kind of guy that chases his friend’s ex!”

Shame fills Spock and he turns his gaze to the wall beside him. “I… I apologize then. I made an assumption and that was wrong of me.”

They fall silent after that. Both men not looking at each other before Jim’s sigh cuts through it.

“It’s not… unfounded. I know what people use to say about me and how I was with the ladies but I’m not like that. Gaila was one of two girls I slept with at the time and even though we did it _a lot_ I still wasn't about to hop into bed with anyone. I just liked to flirt.”

“You do not need to explain yourself to me.” Finally, Spock meets Jim’s gaze, all too clearly expressing his guilt. _Perhaps I should just express my true feelings. I was merely jealous and expecting the worst. I did not assume because of rumors,_ Spock thinks.

Meanwhile, unknowing to Spock, Jim is having to bite his tongue. _I don’t want her. I want—_

“Thanks, Spock,” Jim says, before he can say anything he really shouldn’t. Not now anyway.

“For what?”

“For dinner. For helping me out like you have.”

There’s silence for a moment before Spock turns back to the utensils in his hands. “There is no need to thank me. Any effort to bring a positive impact to your emotional balance is worth the time. Besides, it is not an inconvenience. I found the extra company quite agreeable.”

They fall into a silence again but it’s somewhat comfortable this time. Jim finds that he’s definitely become pretty domestic. It’s amazing what only a few days with Spock can do but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

Yet he can’t help but feel he’s going to ruin it somehow. Any time Jim is given something good, it always comes around for him. He desperately hopes this is the exception.


	5. Chapter 5

A week and five days pass.

While preparing for bed that night, Jim comes knocking at Spock’s door. Still kneeling on the floor to roll up his meditation mat, Spock calls for Jim to enter.

Dressed in his sweat pants and a white V-neck, Jim steps through the door before is slides shut behind him. His hair is still tousled from the sonic shower he had earlier. He greets Spock with a short nod though his eyes are fixed on the carpet as he rubs the back of his neck.

“What may I do for you, Jim?” Spock asks as he tucks away his meditation mat in the closet.

Jim hesitates for a moment before his arm drops to his side while the other hand tucks into one of his pockets. “Can we talk?”

Spock nods, although he examines Jim’s facial expression for any sign of fatigue or emotional distress. He doesn’t seem to upset it any way, only somewhat blank and unsure. “Of course, Jim. Please come in and have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Jim walks over to the small table by the window and takes a seat. Spock goes to join him.

“What do you wish to discuss?” Spock asks gently, folding his hands in his lap while Jim rests an elbow on the table and stares at the floor for a few more moments.

Jim is eerily quiet for longer than Spock is comfortable with, but Spock is patient and Jim coming to him on his own about something that is clearly bothering him is a good sign. “I was just wondering...” Jim starts off before sighing and closing his eyes. He thinks over what he’s going to say before lifting his head to look into Spock’s eyes. “I’m not a burden, am I?”

Spock’s eyebrows hike up nearly to his hairline. _How could Jim have come to that conclusion?_ Spock wonders. “Not at all, Jim. Nothing about your presence here has been hindering in any way. Why would you assume that?”

“I didn’t assume,” Jim insists though he’s relieved that his hunch was wrong. “I was just curious. I’m still on medical leave. I haven’t done much other than read or try to bake stuff and even then, at least five of those attempts I needed your help to get it right.” Jim sighs and scrubs his hand over his face. “I just feel so useless lately.”

“Jim,” Spock says softly, reaching over to rest a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Picking up a new skill is not an easy task. The few times that I helped you were mostly demonstrations. And I enjoy spending that time with you.” Spock is relieved when Jim actually smiles at him.

“Really?” Jim asks before chuckling quietly. “I guess that’s not hard to believe. I mean I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

“What?” Spock asks as he pulls his hand away his posture going quite stiff. “I am uncertain to what you are referring to,” he says quickly. His mind is racing for answers. _Jim is not like anyone else. This is **not** the kind of cruel joke he’d attempt on someone._ Spock’s earlier meditation efforts has been for nothing because Spock can feel his mind suddenly turning to turmoil. _If he knows the truth, then our friendship is over._

“It’s not a problem,” Jim insists leaning over to try and get Spock to look at him properly. “Spock I don’t mind that you’re attracted to me because… I need to confess something. I was jealous of Uhura,” he explains in a pleading tone.

Spock’s gaze lowers but he doesn’t look at Jim. “You could not possibly mean that. You have most likely developed an attachment to me because of the way I have been caring for you. It will pass when we return to our separate living situations on the ship.”

_“Spock!”_ Jim pleads. He sits on the edge of his seat and reaches out to press a hand to Spock’s cheek, causing the vulcan to gasp as the warmth of Jim’s emotions floods through the weakened mental shields. “I’ve been attracted to you for so long but you were in a relationship, and I didn’t want to jeopardize anything by making a move after such a fresh break up but… please believe me.” Jim’s voice is a whisper at the end. Spock can _feel_ that Jim is telling the truth but he just can’t really accept it.

Unsure what more he could say, Jim settles for tugging Spock by the shoulders for a deep kiss.

At first he’s met with hesitation until Spock’s hands slowly come up to cup Jim’s neck, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin there as he returns the affection. Jim’s lips against his own is a pleasure he never thought he’d receive. Spock moves in as close as he can, simply _feeling_ Jim and allowing his earthy scent to engulf Spock’s senses. Then Jim’s hands move lower, rubbing Spock’s sides tenderly. Then they’re both standing and Spock’s pulled into a hug.

They part for air, each of them panting a little before Spock goes in for another kiss, his lips traveling along Jim’s before Jim is holding Spock still and licking the seam of his mouth. As Spock opens to Jim’s probing tongue, he feels something underlying Jim’s warmth.

_Doubt._

With a gasp, Spock turns his head away from the kiss, breathing somewhat heavy but he works to quickly calm himself. “Why are you doing this, Jim? You… you did not come here just to confess to your affections for me.”

“What?” Jim’s shock is written all over his face. “Spock I just… all I know how to do is _this_ and I don’t want it with anyone else.”

“Sexual activity was not advised,” Spock murmurs softly as he removes his hands and folds his arms, walking to the window to stare at the streets below.

“If that’s the problem then just know that Bones said it was okay with certain restrictions!” Jim tries to touch Spock’s shoulder but Spock moves away, taking a few steps to the left.

“You only came here to copulate because you are _bored,_ ” Spock whispers, his eyes falling closed.

Jim shakes his head fiercely. “No! I just… I wanted you to know how I really felt because when I died… you thought I only loved you as a friend. I don’t want to risk that happening again without you knowing the truth.”

Spock turns sharply, almost glaring at Jim. His control is slipping faster than he’d like to admit. _“All I know to do is **this**.”_ Spock parrots Jim’s words with a slight hiss. “I know you are capable of many things Jim, but coming to me for copulation because—”

“It’s not like that!” Jim’s shaking now, his fists clenched in his own shirt. _I fucked up!_ “I wanted to show you how I feel, how much I care about you and this is the only way I know how. I—I just feel so useless and I want to make you happy too. I felt like all this time you’ve just been revolving around me and I… I wanted to return the effort, _show_ you how much I care and sex is what I know best.” It may not be the best wording but panic is making it harder to breathe. _Spock’s going to kick me out and request a transfer to another ship!_ Jim tells himself, eyes brimming with tears as he looks to Spock.

At a loss for words himself, Spock can’t help but soften when he sees that Jim’s truly hurt that Spock would think the worst of his intentions. Perhaps if Jim knew how hard it was for Spock to even believe that Nyota had wanted him, how difficult growing up as the _ugly half-breed_ was, maybe he’d understand why Spock is quick to shell himself up.

“I care for you too. Greatly. But you do not need to repay me at all. I have been doing my best to assist you in getting better because I do not wish for you to continue to suffer… as I have.” The last words are so quiet, Jim’s not sure he even heard them.

“As you have?” Jim’s chest tightens as he recalls the way Spock’s eyes would darken on the anniversary of his mother and planet’s death. _Of course he’s still hurting!_

“I was supposed to see a healer after Nero’s attack but given Vulcan’s sudden decrease in population, I did not want to burden them. I knew they would be quite busy seeing to all of the other survivors. No outside species can assist us in this manner.” Spock wishes he could stop talking but he’s never admitted any of this to anyone before and he trusts Jim a great deal.

“Spock I… I don’t know how I could have thought that you’d somehow be better after these past few years but… that was stupid of me to think.” Jim ducks his head, shaking it sadly as he rubs away his own tears.

“You could not have known. I did not wish to burden anyone else with my pain.” Spock’s hands are on him again, this time gently clutching Jim’s wrists and pulling them down to peer into those blue eyes. “I know you are suffering too though. You blame yourself for all those deaths but you must not. Harrison and Admiral Marcus are the ones at fault.”

Jim shakes his head. “That—none of that compares to what you—”

“We are _not_ comparing,” Spock corrects. His voice is stern for a moment before he turns gentle once more. “I know you wish that you could have saved all of your crew but… you must understand that Dr. McCoy would have used the serum on anyone else if he could.”

“I just don’t feel that _I_ deserved the second chance. I was paying for my mistakes with my life so that everyone else could be safe.” Spock’s hands are so warm and soft. Long fingers graze across Jim’s cheek before a thumb comes up to wipe a tear away. Even though Jim’s emotions bombard Spock’s shields with grief and pain, it’s welcomed. Spock has always longed for _this_ kind of intimacy with Jim.

“You are incorrect. I know that if anyone deserved a second chance, it is you, Jim.” Through their touch, Spock shows Jim his _sincerity._ It’s much stronger through a meld but it’s enough to make Jim’s eyes widen. Then Spock pulls Jim into a tight hug, nestling into the crook of his neck as his heart hammers in his side.

“Spock?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“You knew that cable was going to snap… back in the volcano.”

The following silence enough of an answer. Fresh tears soak into Spock’s shirt as Jim clutches him close, one hand on the back of Spock’s head while the other held him around the waist. “Please, Spock. Tell me you didn’t know that would happen and that you had every intention of coming back!”

Spock makes a weak noise in his throat. Warm tears trickle down Jim’s neck. “I wanted to see my mother again,” he whispers, his breath shaky with each word.

Jim’s grip becomes protective. He’s not sure who or what he’s protecting Spock from but he just knows not to let go. He knows Spock went on the mission because he wouldn’t have been able to watch another planet suffer a fate similar to his own. Spock felt he was the only one who could complete it. Knowing that there was an underlying motivation though, that was too much. “You can’t do that! You can’t just plan your death like that!”

Fingers clinging to Jim’s shirt, Spock pulls back far enough to look directly into Jim’s puffy, red eyes. His own are green around the lower lids as more tears well up. “You did,” Spock says. “You went into that chamber knowing that you couldn’t come back.” He looks down at Jim’s chest and tries to take comfort in the hands that are holding him close. “I did not think I deserved a second chance either. You went against all protocol for me.”

“I had no other choice, Spock I couldn’t leave you!” Jim presses his forehead to Spock’s. Their breaths mingle as they each try their best to keep stable. “The way Uhura and me came down on you for it… that was… that was shitty. I’m so sorry.”

At the sight of Spock’s lower lip quivering, even if it’s for a split second, Jim finds that he can’t breathe.

“I… I care deeply for you, Jim. When your hand fell away from mine, it was like a part of myself, my _katra_ , had been torn away from me.” Shame fills Spock as he recalls the memory of his fight with Harrison. He shuts his eyes tight. “Vulcans are supposed to be peaceful yet when I attacked Harrison I attempted to kill him. I felt that my actions were justified yet I also felt that his execution would be too _merciful._ ” Spock shivers at his own words. His memory of Harrison’s pale face comes to the forefront of his mind, along with the intense rage Spock felt at the time. Anguish surrounds it. “Long before that event I realized my affections for you. I care for you more than I even care for myself. When you were in the hospital in critical condition, not knowing if you would live… I never once thought of my own future. Not without you there in some capacity.”

A warm hand cups Spock’s cheek and a flood of genuine, human affection seeps into his mind. He opens himself to it with another gasp.

“I’m sorry I apparently drove you to madness. And I wish you had told me sooner how you felt. I mean Uhura broke up with you and you didn’t think to… just come forward?” Jim’s smiling weakly now and his tears aren’t _entirely_ of sadness anymore.

“You never expressed interest in males and I know that very few outside species can tolerate a vulcan’s lack of emotional—”

Lips press to Spock’s, swallowing any remaining negative thoughts on the matter. When Jim pulls back, just enough that their noses are touching, he grins. “Well now you know that that’s a lie.”

Spock is silent as he brings up two fingers and presses the pads to the corner of Jim’s mouth. Turning his head slightly to meet them, Jim presses a little kiss to those fingers, relishing in the little moan it draws from Spock.

“We need to take better care of ourselves,” Jim says. He pulls away and takes Spock’s hand tugging him over to the bed. “You’re worth a healer’s time, Spock! And I’ll… I’ll do what Bones told me I should. I’ll contact the counselor he recommended.” As they arrive to the bed, Jim sits on the edge and invites Spock to do the same. “We owe it to ourselves to face these problems head on.”

“I agree.” Spock nods as he takes a seat. “I will contact father to locate a healer for me. I may have to go to New Vulcan to meet with them though.”

“No problem.” Jim moves up the bed and pulls back the blankets. “Now come on, let’s get some sleep. You don’t mind if I settle in with you, do you? I think I’d get better sleep with a little cuddling.”

“I welcome your company.” In his own vulcan way, Spock practically glows as he tucks into Jim’s arms beneath the blankets.

**~*~**

From what Jim’s been told, New Vulcan is not _quite_ as hot as the original one, but it doesn’t make much of a difference to his pale human body. Thankfully, Sarek provides a pitcher of a cold juice for them as they sit out on the porch beneath the shade although Jim’s not sure how to pronounce the name of the fruit the juice is made from.

Spock won’t be joining them for at least another half hour. He’s inside the house with a healer, deep in a meditative state as they meld.

Jim wanted more than anything to be there in support but the healer, Syvel, insisted that they be alone for this.

“Spock tells me that you both are taking steps towards mental healing,” Sarek says as he pours himself another glass of the purple liquid.

Jim’s not sure that it’s a topic for casual conversation but Sarek doesn’t strike him as particularly judgmental and maybe even genuinely interested to know. Eventually, Jim nods and takes a little sip of his own drink. “Yeah, I’ve got a doctor that I make vid calls with for our sessions until I get back to earth.”

“It is welcoming to know as you have inspired my son to seek a healer as well. I admit that I am… I felt ashamed that my son did not come to me sooner about this.” Jim can see a flicker of sadness in Sarek’s gaze as his eyes seem fixated on the desert view. “I suppose that is my fault though. I was not entirely understanding towards his emotional outbursts as a child. Perhaps if I had…”

“Hey,” Jim says softly, putting his cup down on the small table between them. Sarek looks to him, though he’s quite unreadable again. “It’s illogical to dwell on that, isn’t it? Spock’s here now, trusts you now. That’s the important part, right?”

Sarek is quiet again and folds his hands in his lap. After a moment, he nods. “Indeed. Your logic is sound.”

While Jim doesn’t know what it’s like to have children, nor plans on ever really having any, he can sympathize. Having your own children admit to nearly giving up their lives would fuck with any loving parent. Even a vulcan.

“At least Spock spoke to you about it. I still haven’t talked to my mom. I don’t want her to get too upset after I just came back from the dead.” He tries to chuckle and make a joke of it but it dies away. He reaches for his glass and down the last half of his juice.

Silence follows for awkward attempt at humor before Sarek shifts and says, “I do not know your mother, but as a father it is important to me to know if my child is well or in need of my assistance. Even as an adult I sometimes sought out the guidance of my own father.”

Jim doesn’t know what to say to that, so he only nods and pours another glass for himself, at least as a distraction since he’s not particularly thirsty anymore.

Neither of them push the topic any further and sit in silence for a while as a breeze moves a thin layer of sand across the desert floor. There’s a heard of some horse-sized creatures running in the distance, dust billowing behind them. The silence is only broken long enough for Sarek to assure Jim that the species is not hostile.

Later, when Spock walks outside to inform them that his first session has been completed, Jim tries to walk over to embrace Spock but upon remembering the company they have, he settles for a nod and a smile. He doesn’t want to embarrass Spock in front of Sarek.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting. Is there anything you would like to do now, Jim?”

“No need to apologize, Spock. Your dad and I had a good chat.” He almost turns to pat Sarek’s arm in a friendly manner but Jim quickly pulls his own hand away before he can cause a scene. “I was hoping to explore the city. I heard there’s live music going on today and I was hoping to check it out.”

 “Very well, we shall travel to _Trehken._ Allow me to change into suitable robes for travel.” Spock walks back through the sliding door.

“Is your interest in my son romantic?” Sarek asks from uncomfortably close behind Jim, who spins around with wide eyes.

“Uh, well… I mean—”

Sarek holds up a hand. “I am well versed in human displays of affection.” He looks at Jim, blank as ever. “It is quite unexpected that he has moved on so soon after the young Uhura terminated their relationship.”

Jim blushes as he looks down at the ground, shifting his feet uncomfortably while tucking his hands in his pockets. “Do you really think it’s too soon?”

“No.” Sarek raises an eyebrow as if to say _“that’s a silly question”._ “I am merely… _surprised_. I did not say that it is not agreeable. What is important to me is that my son is pleased with his choices.” He tilts his head in thought, a gesture very similar to Spock’s. “Amanda believed our son to be quite charming and said as such when she spoke of him to others. His appeal to humans especially seems to have worked well for him.”

There was no stopping Jim’s chuckle. A tiny version of Spock, perhaps even wearing a bowtie, comes to mind.  _Charming._

Spock soon returns, stepping outside in a set of black robes with silver trim. Jim finds himself admiring Spock. The robes may cover his body completely, hiding his abs and those sinful legs and yet it’s so enticing.

“Ahem,” Sarek says, looking between the two men. “I believe you should be on your way. It will take you approximately fifteen minutes to get there using my hover-bike and tickets to the local concert tend to sell quickly.”

With a firm nod, Jim turns to Spock with a grin. “He’s right. Let’s get going, Spock.”

They walk around the house to the garage. Jim hops on the bike first, strapping the goggles around his eyes then braces his hands on the handlebars. Spock climbs up behind him, hugging around his waist.

Soon, they’re racing across the desert, and Jim can’t help but grin. With the wind blowing through his hair and Spock holding him close, he’s never felt more alive.

**END**


End file.
